


Another Today

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Familiar Dean, M/M, Witch!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-29 18:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Crowley had long known that their Supreme Lucifer would eventually try to kill him. What he hadn't foreseen was a familiar saving his life. Drowley.





	1. Chapter 1

“How nice of you to grace us with your presence”.

And that was exactly why Crowley had not wished to come to the Coven meeting and wouldn’t have, if his mother and her familiar Abaddon hadn’t insisted on it.

“How could I possibly miss out on seeing my Supreme?” he snarled, despite knowing better.

Lucifer, in his not at all humble opinion, was the worst Supreme he’d ever seen, despite or maybe because Rowena fawning over him.

The Supreme raised an eyebrow.

“You might see even more of me when I finally go into politics”.

The assembled witches laughed, and Crowley wondered if he was the only one who’d realized that their leader was not joking about his ambitions. In the past few years he’d suspected more and more that Lucifer didn’t just want to rule the witches in their State, but regular humans as well. And the last thing he wished was for him to have even more power.

Most of that had to do with his familiar Michael, as Crowley well knew. Now and then – not often – a witch and a familiar fit together so well that their combined power put a nuclear reactor to shame, and sadly this was the case here.

Crowley shot the dog sitting at Lucifer’s feet a glare. If he had ever been tempted to find a familiar (which he was not and had never been) he wouldn’t have wanted a snivelling, obedient creature to bow to his every whim. What a boring existence.

It was impossible to say what breed Michael was even supposed to be. Bulldog? Terrier? Shepherd’s dog? All of the above?

In his head, Crowley called Michael a hell hound.

He’d have liked to know what his familiar was supposed to be before he bonded with them, thank you very much.

But then, he didn’t want a familiar. He didn’t need anyone in his life for a longer period of time than a night, thank you very much. And if he needed power, he could always ask Abaddon or Fiona, his son’s familiar. They might not have had the best relationship, but they were still blood.

Many had reminded him that not bonding with anyone not only reduced his magic, but his life span as well, but Crowley had never seen a point in living forever. The last three hundred years had been long enough. He was content with his existence, but giving it up wouldn’t mean much to him.

He let Lucifer drown on and on, wondering how the draught he was cooking was coming along. Creating elixirs didn’t require power, only skill, and he’d long been considered their coven’s best potion maker.

He’d been experimenting on protection potions for a while now, thanks to Lucifer. As one of the few witches who didn’t scream their approval at his every word, an attack was sure to come soon, especially if he wanted to follow his dreams of world domination.

Crowley really should have known he would act sooner rather than later.

And to his everlasting shame, he was lost in thought as he walked home, having hoped the walk would clear his head, and therefore not transporting to his house immediately.

It was a fatal mistake, or it would have been, if not for –

A small squeak that sounded surprisingly furious caught his attention and he turned around to see a –

Squirrel attack Michael, who’d been sneaking up on him.

A squirrel?

Crowley could tell it was a familiar, but to choose to attack one with a huge dog form –

It was hoping up and down his back, leaving little bites that couldn’t really hurt Michael, but enraged him.

He was already bound to be furious because he couldn’t sneak up on Crowley and devour his throat anymore.

Now was exactly the time for making an elegant exit, but –

The squirrel familiar – and Crowley knew no witch who was bonded with one – had saved his life by risking their own. He couldn’t just leave them.

An attack of altruism that he would never have suspected he was capable of.

Thank God familiars didn’t have very strong magical capabilities of their own. If Lucifer had been with him, Crowley never would have dared to interfere, but the Supreme was certainly trying to establish on alibi somewhere far away.

He got read to blast Michael to Canada – the mutt would need a while to come back, and he wouldn’t be harmed so Lucifer couldn’t blame him openly – when he succeeded in throwing the Squirrel off his back. The familiar flew through the air before landing on the pavement, giving another squeak before lying still, probably dead.

A twinge of regret and guilt reared its head, to Crowley’s surprise.

Maybe he threw a bit more power into the spell than he should have – Michael normally wouldn’t have disappeared in a big pile of smoke – but it felt good.

He walked over to the fallen familiar.

It would be the proper thing to do, finding out who he was and contacting his witch, who must already know they were dead due to the bond snapping.

To his astonishment, he realized quickly that the Squirrel was still alive. It was breathing and twitching, unconscious but in pain, and Crowley leaned down and picked it up carefully before he knew what he was doing.

Then again, he did always have healing potions in reserve.

He transported them both home.

He carefully placed the Squirrel on the sofa before hurrying towards his lab.

He didn’t even spare the bubbling kettle a glance as he got the potion.

Crowley had to administer the brew with a small syringe, and he wasn’t at all sure if the familiar was able to swallows in the state he was in, but he had to try.

Half an hour later, he knew he’d been successful.

The squirrel was breathing easier, and it was moving more, the pain receding.

There was nothing to do but to wait.

Crowley returned to his potion, which was coming along just fine; but despite knowing how good his work was and that the familiar would be fine in the morning, he still checked on him regularly for some reason.

He even carefully put a blanket over him when he retired for the night.

The next morning, the squirrel was still out, but obviously asleep. It had even curled up, suggesting that whatever inner injuries it had suffered from were gone.

Crowley had meant to make breakfast, but instead he stood there, looking down at the familiar until their eyes blinked open.

Green eyes.

“Morning, Squirrel”.

It blinked, then frowned – as much as a squirrel was able to.

“If you want me to greet you by name, you should probably tell me”.

Another blink, and it changed form.

Crowley would freely admit to himself that he had in no way suspected that the small animal was one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a few, in his time.

“Hey. You bring me here?”

“You were injured. I poured a healing potion down your throat. You’re welcome”.

He nodded.

“Fergus Crowley, right?”

He was taken aback.

Narrowing his eyes he said, “I don’t recall meeting you before”.

And someone like this he would undoubtedly have remembered, but that thought went unspoken.

“We haven’t. But we’ve collected information about your coven, and – “

“Who is “we”? And who are you, just to begin with?”

“You could be a bit politer. I saved your life, you know”.

“And I saved yours too, so we’re even. Now who are you?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester”.

He had heard the name Winchester before; they were an old family of familiars. But he’d never known that one of them had a squirrel form.

“And where’s your witch?”

He blinked, looking remarkably like the squirrel he’d been only a short while ago.

“Dude, I’m not bonded. Can’t you tell?”

If he concentrated on it, but he’d never paid particular attention to others.

Dean snorted.

“Of course. I find the one witch who doesn’t care about familiars”.

“And why should that concern you? I carried you here, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough” Dean relented.

“Do you have food in the house? I’m starving. I’ll explain everything at breakfast”.

Crowley had no recollection of agreeing to invite him when they sat down at the kitchen table.

“You have a stove and a microwave? Your power running dry?”

He wasn’t as strong as he had been a few decades ago, but his magic hadn’t grown that weak yet.

“I prefer to use my powers in other ways, that is all”.

Dean nodded.

“I get that. This one time, a witch asked me to channel her magic so she could clean her windows. How lazy can some people be?”

It sounded like his mother, but Crowley didn’t comment on it.

“So” Dean said after they had eaten (even though Crowley remembered distinctly that he’d said they would talk at breakfast, not after breakfast) “You have a problem”.

“Do I?”

“Please. I’ve read up on you. People say you’re a bastard, but one thing you’re surely not, and that’s dumb. You know what Lucifer Pellegrino wants to do”.

“And how do you know about it?”

“Friend of ours” again that mysterious “we”; Crowley was beginning to wonder who Dean could mean, considering he didn’t have a witch “went through town a few months back. You might remember her – Charlie Bradbury?”

“Red hair?” he asked, recalling the bubbly, happy-go-lucky witch immediately. She specialised in electronics and combining them with magic, if he was right.

She and her familiar Gilda had been annoyingly cute together during the whole coven meeting.

But that had apparently not stopped her from observing them closely, as Dean nodded and said, “She said Pellegrino wants to take over the world, and that most of you guys seem into it. Mentioned you as a possible detractor. We collected information and then decided one of us should check it out”.

Check him out, Dean meant.

Interesting.

“But when I came upon you, I saw the familiar trying to attack you – “

“It was Lucifer’s”.

“I thought so. Anyway, I couldn’t do much but alert you and hope to distract him a bit”.

It was certainly distracting. I haven’t been as entertained as I was when I watched Michael jump helplessly up and down in a while”.

Dean smirked.

“Yeah, he was quite pathetic, wasn’t he? Just a bit strong in his familiar form. Their bond must be---“

“Strong as iron” Crowley interrupted him. “Believe me, enough witches have coveted Michael for themselves and have tried to break it”.

“I assume they’re no longer among us”.

Crowley nodded.

Dean sighed.

“This is bad news. We all know why it’s important humans are kept out of this. And of course I’ve never been a fan of dictators, period. I was hoping Lucifer wasn’t as powerful as Charlie thought. But his familiar alone is troubling enough. Normally I can take on anyone, no problem – “

“You’re a squirrel!”

“And from an old family. Usually I can force someone back into their human form, easy as pie, and I’m an excellent fighter. “

They were indeed ancient, then. That quality of familiars was mostly considered lost nowadays.

“Anyway, thank God you were there”.

If he hadn’t been, Dena wouldn’t have been fighting Michael in the first place, but Crowley didn’t mention it.

“So what now?” he asked.

 “Now we put our heads together and ensure your Supreme doesn’t rise to higher places”.

“And what do I get in return?”

Dean shrugged.

“Aside from not being the victim of future assassination attempts? We know many familiars...”

“I don’t want one”.

“Didn’t say you did. I am just saying, if you ever need your powers channelled by someone strong, you can always count on us. Plus, you know, it’s not a bad thing to have a Winchester at your side when things go badly”.

If the stories he’d heard about the magical crisis the family had managed over the centuries were true, that was correct.

“Alright then” he said, “We have a deal”.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley would admit that they hadn’t discussed details when they had made their deal (and quite frankly, he had no one to blame for that but himself) but he was rather sure he hadn’t agreed to his house becoming their base in his coven’s grounds.

But the very next evening, there was a knock on his door and when he went to open it, Charlie Bradbury strolled in, her fairy bluebird familiar perched on one of her shoulders and Dean in his squirrel form on the other.

“Hey, Mr. Crowley”.

“Just Crowley is enough, Miss Bradbury. Gilda”.

The bird chirped.

He looked at Dean.

“Squirrel”.

He glared at him – hardly an intimidating gesture from such a small animal – and, to his surprise, jumped unto his left shoulder in a mirage of the bonded pair in the room.

“Dean said I was right about you not liking Lucifer. Glad to hear it”.

There was an underlying threat in her voice that made him respect her more than he had beforehand.

“I don’t know what he told you, but I am mostly interested in staying alive”.

To his own surprise, he valued his continued existence more than he’d realized.

“As good a reason as any to rebel. At least when you’re scared for your hide you’ve got no reason to betray us”.

“Jesus, Charlie” Dean said, after hoping down on the floor and transforming, “Calm down. He’s on our side”.

Technically he wasn’t on anyone’s side but his own, but he didn’t correct him.

“You’ve never seen Lucifer. His powers...” Charlie shuddered. “I’m just worried, that’s all”.

“It’s gonna be alright. Our family has taken on many bad guys over the centuries”.

He might have underestimated the influence the Winchesters had. Charlie and Gilda clearly looked up to Dean, and his word seemed to be enough for them to trust Crowley, if only warily.

Being chosen to be a Winchester’s witch would be an honour.

Where had that thought come from?

“Let’s get started, then”.

Dean turned to him.

He still hadn’t stepped away from him, and they were close enough that Crowley could distinguish the different shades of green in his eyes.

Not that this was of importance.

“What can you tell us about Lucifer?”

“Why do you think I have any interesting information regarding him?”

Dean shook his head.

“Come on. Guy like you, you probably have a file on everyone you associate with”.

“I haven’t drawn up one on you, yet”.

“Feel ready to begin whenever you want, I ain’t stopping you”.

“Gentlemen, could you quit flirting so we can focus on then monster trying to take over the world for a second?”

Crowley blinked.

Flirting? They hadn’t been flirting. He never flirted. His one night stands knew well enough what he wanted, there was no reason for preliminary rituals.

“Gilda, tell your witch she shouldn’t call the kettle black”.

The fairy blue bird transformed into a pretty young woman a bit shorter than her witch.

“You know as well as I do that no one tells her anything.”

“And you love it, babe”.

So he’d been right about their witch-familiar relationship.

Not all bonds were sexual, of course, although he had always had his suspicions about his mother and Abaddon, and Gavin and Fiona were talking about having children.

“Excuse me if I interrupt this charming display, but you seemed to think time was of the essence”.

“Right. So. Lucifer Pellegrino. What do you know?”

“He arrived here about ten years ago”.

“You had another Supreme then?”

“Yes, Lilith Cassidy”.

Crowley hadn’t been very fond of her either, but as a respected witch, and her occasional lover, he’d known how to get what he wanted from her.

He’d known from the first there was no point in attempting the same with Lucifer. And with his arrival, any interest Lilith had had in Crowley had been gone, as well.

“They started living together; I think she imagined them as the next power couple. It didn’t work out like that. He killed her” he said matter-of-factly.

“You got proof?” Dean asked.

“Of course not. But both her and her familiar burning up during a spell gone wrong... She was always careful, planning every detail. She wouldn’t have risked something like that alone, even though she and Ruby were pretty powerful”.

“At the very least her familiar would have tried to stop her” Gilda said. “We usually do”.

She glared at Charlie.

“It was just once!”

“You wanted to bring _Star Trek_ characters to live”.

“Bones deserves a break with all the saving the crew he does!”

“First of all he does, but we all know what kind of mojo would have been required” Dean said lightly.

“That said, if you ever come across something powerful enough, I wouldn’t say no to young William Shatner crawling out of my TV”.

Crowley was somewhat at a loss, for no coven he’d ever been part of had acted like this.

They seemed less like allies out of safety and habit and more like a family.

“We’re getting off topic again. So he killed your old Supreme?”

“Correct. He then proceeded to take over”.

“And you were all just okay with it?”

“There were... several accidents that year, let’s leave it at that”.

“And that damn mutt probably caused a few” Dean muttered to himself.

“You’re sure you’re feeling alright?” Charlie asked, immediately worried.

“Yeah, like I said, Crowley healed me”.

Her eyes lit up.

“That’s right!”

She turned to Crowley.

“I completely forgot! I was still freaking out about Dean getting hurt, and for all we knew, you might just have been an uninterested bystander, so I wasn’t holding my breath in the first place, and I had a bad night when Dean didn’t come back, and – I’m so sorry, let me do this properly!”

He’d rather have known what “doing this properly” contained before she did it, but before he could moved, she’d drawn him into a tight hug, whispering “Thank you thank you thank you” over and over.

She’d been more subdued when she’d visited before.

“Come on, the poor guy just truly met you” Dean said. “Charlie, I’m pretty sure he has trouble breathing at this point”.

“Oh I’m sorry” she stepped away and Crowley only then realized that, in fact, he had barely gotten any air while she’d squeezed him.

“It’s alright” he said for lack of any other response he could think of.

The simple truth was that he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.

People didn’t _thank_ him.

People weren’t _nice_ to him, period.

People either left him alone or were scared of him, if he didn’t downright inspire hatred, and he was fine with that.

“So now that you have been introduced to the patented Charlie Bradbury hug, what do you say we move this elsewhere?” Dean asked.

He glanced at him. He couldn’t possibly –

“Your powers extend down into the earth quite a bit. You have a cellar”.

No one else had ever realized that.

Gilda looked at Dean, a puzzled expression on her face.

“It’s there” she said slowly, “but it’s not easy to notice”.

Dean shrugged.

“What can I say, I am just that awesome”.

But none of that explained why Crowley ended up showing them what he had come to call his safe room.

Or how Dean had known it was there.

He’d so carefully shielded it from all detection that not even his mother, who knew his powers the best, had been able to feel it.

“Ah, that’s the reason” Charlie said as soon as she stepped down the stairs, and for a moment, he hoped she’d found an explanation, but instead she just chuckled and pointed to his record player and vinyl records.

“He probably felt the vibrations from those babies. Can’t keep Dean away from music for too long”.

He’d already stepped up to Crowley’s collection. He found himself actually curious what he thought.

 “You a jazz guy?”

“I like the classics”.

“Yep, definitely what drew Dean down here” Charlie mumbled.

Gilda threw her a glance. They seemed to communicate through their bond for a moment.

It had always made Crowley uneasy when witches and familiars talked privately in front of him like this, but he didn’t mind when it came to Charlie and Gilda.

Maybe because he could hardly imagine either of them attacking him after that hug.

“This is somewhat more... comfortable than I imagined it” Dean commented.

He had made sure his hideaway was as pleasant as it could be, bearing in mind that he couldn’t have windows.

All his favourite books and movies, a large assortment of Craig, good furniture...

“I actually like it better down her then upstairs. Just how much of yourself do you keep hidden away?”

“That is a rather deep question considering two days ago I had no idea who you were, don’t you think?”

He was surprised that he wasn’t angrier – he was slightly irritated by the question, sure, but nowhere near as furious as he would have been, if Rowena had dared ask the same.

Charlie nudged Gilda. They talked through their bond again.

“Come on, girls” Dean complained. “If it’s important, let us know”.

“Oh, it is, but it doesn’t concern our current problem”.

“Here” he said, stepping up to a file cabinet.

“This is all I have on Lucifer”.

Dean took the file he handed him.

“You could find nothing on him before he came here!? The guy either lived the most boring life imaginable and suddenly decided to become your Supreme, or he has something to hide”.

“And all probability points to the later” he agreed. “But sadly, my contacts couldn’t help me. No one has ever heard of this guy”.

“No one who’s alive, at least” Charlie mumbled.

“Why did your Supreme take him in?”

“Lilith was all about power, and he has more than enough of that”.

“I’d say, if he ordered his familiar to kill you” Gilda said. “What exactly is their relationship like? I love Charlie, but I wouldn’t commit murder if she told me to”.

After a pause she added, “Unless it was justified, of course”.

Crowley smirked before replying, “I’m not sure. I have never been particularly apt at feeling bonds. My mother might know, but she’s sadly enamoured of Lucifer. From the looks of it, I always thought they were like master and slave”.

Gilda made a strange noise that sounded like the human form of a frustrated chirp, and Dean looked furious.

He understood that. It couldn’t be pleasant, hearing about a member of their species being used like that.

On the other hand, it was Michael, and the thought of him suffering didn’t inspire pity. If he was even suffering at all. Maybe he liked doing whatever Lucifer told him to.

But this was more complicated than whether Michael had chosen to become Lucifer’s pet or not.

For centuries, witches had looked down at and dominated their familiars as useful conveniences. Things to channel their magic through. It had taken a long time for them to establish themselves as individuals with rights of their own.

Of course any self-respecting familiar would hate a witch who still believed in this old-fashioned nonsense.

Crowley never had. He had met too many idiotic witches and fiendishly intelligent familiars to even consider it.

He was starting to think both Dean and Gilda were more proof of the power of familiars.

A thrill went down his spine.

“Someone’s at the door. Someone I don’t know”.

“Who is it?”

Crowley concentrated on the spot.

“It seems to be a witch, a young woman, and a familiar... in Moose form”.

“Should have known Sammy would show up soon – he said he just had to finish a case before he and Sarah came along.”

“Wait, that’s your brother?”

He’d collected more information about the Winchesters from the moment Dean had left him yesterday, of course.

“Of course you know his name... And don’t you dare make even one joke”.

“I can’t imagine what about” he deadpanned as Dean, with a glare, transformed to make a point and skipped up the steps to meet his brother.

“Winchesters. Trust me, they’re worth every single nerve they cost you – Charlie’s basically one of them, too” Gilda told him, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

It wasn’t like he and Dean would see much of each other after they had dealt with Lucifer.


	3. Chapter 3

“No offense, but I refuse to have a Moose standing in my living room. If you could – “

Sam Winchester transformed into a human who took up slightly less space than the animal.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it. Sam Winchester. Thank you for helping out Dean”.

No hug this time, thank God. He must have flinched when he moved to shake his hand however, since Sam grinned.

“I see you spoke with Charlie”.

“That he did. Too bad you didn’t see it; it was a grand scene, everyone was in tears...” Dean said.

“Don’t speak for me, Winchester” Charlie, coming up the stairs with Gilda, complained.

There were more people in his living room than he had even allowed to enter his house in decades... centuries, perhaps.

“Are you all shielded? If Lucifer finds out that you’re...”

“Don’t worry about it” Sam’s witch stepped up to him.

“Sarah Blake. I’m pretty good at protection spells”.

“Working on a potion myself”.

“I heard you were good with draughts”.

He’d become quite wealthy selling them over the years, but he didn’t brag about it.

“Just how much have you heard about me?”

Dean snorted.

“Are you kidding? Centuries old but unbound. Of course people talk”.

“You’re not bonded to anyone either” Crowley reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’m only thirty-six. Plenty of time”.

“There’s hardly merit in being proud of something completely coincidental”.

“When where you born, actually?” Dean asked, studying him.

“I’d say two hundred at most, but Sam’s adamant you are mentioned in this old spell book from 1745...”

“I am, and the answer is 1661”.

Again something he usually didn’t share that easily.

It must have been these damn green sparkling eyes.

“Guys...” Sam said slowly, looking from Crowley to Dean and back again. Sarah nudged him, saying something over their bond apparently, because he didn’t continue.

There was a thump on the roof. Crowley closed his eyes when he extended his power, sighing.

“Why is there a grumpy owl sitting on my house?”

“Oh, that’s Bobby. He was Dad’s familiar”.

It was the first time Dean had mentioned his dead father.

And why did Crowley notice that in the first place?

The grumpy looking owl transformed into an equally annoyed man who strolled through his door a second later, greeting him with a nod.

“Heard you saved this idjit. Thank you”. 

“What did you do to my protections anyway?” Crowley asked. “I knew you could get in because I carried you here myself, but...”

“It’s blood magic” Sam said, “Where one of us can get in – “

“Those spells must be very old”.

Older than him. Much older than him.

“A few millennia” Bobby explained. “Sam here experimented for years before he figured it out. Thank God he found Sarah, we’d still have no clue...”

Binding themselves to each other in such a way... it spoke of a level of trust Crowley had never experienced.

“Speaking of Lucifer – “ Bobby began.

“We weren’t” he said. “I was watching my house being overrun by overenthusiastic familiars and their witches”.

They all looked at him.

“What?”

“Would really have thought that you’d say that the other way around”.

He shrugged.

“I have never thought little of familiars”.

Growing up with Abaddon he’d better not.

“You’re not quite what I pictured” Dean said.

Crowley looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to – “

“Wait a second...” Bobby said slowly.

Crowley took a step back.

Having lost his witch, and seemingly closer in age to him than many others, Bobby Singer might well be looking for a new bond, and he wasn’t interested in the least.

“Bobby” Sarah thankfully stepped in, “You are right. We should be discussing Lucifer”.

“Guy’s been contacting other covens for over two years now” Bobby explained, “he’s talking big about working as one team and what we could all manage together. There are precious few who agree, though. Witches have always been an independent bunch. But he’d very powerful, and he’s getting tired of excuses”.

“Do you think” Dean asked Crowley, “that he and Michael are using magic enhancers?”

If so, they were taking a dangerous risk. Magic enhancers had been forbidden for over four hundred years now, and with good reason. They made witches and their familiars more powerful, but the chances of burning up through sheer energy were high, and the penalty for using one...

“I think he might just be insane enough”.

Crowley knew insanity; there had been days when he’d thought it looked back at him in the mirror, mostly in the dark ages when people had still been burned for their craft.

But Lucifer... that was another story.

He was convinced he was right and everyone else was wrong; and this certainty enabled him to overlook anything not fitting his world view.

He must rule the world, and everyone must bow down before him.

That was what he ultimately wanted.

And people like Crowley stood in the way of that, because they were too old and apathetic to believe his lies.

And he might not have cared much for his life, but he would still fight for it.

Crowley had little hope that he would win.

On the other hand, with the others...

“You do realize I am going against my own coven here”.

“Ah yes” Bobby drawled, “The guys who are so close you don’t even visit each other apart from your coven meetings”.

That was normal, surely? At least every coven he’d ever been part of had handled things this way.

On the other hand, Dean’s coven...

Wait, why did he specifically think of the coven as Dean’s? The Winchesters’ coven. That was it.

It had always been a bit of an outsider, now that Crowley thought about it, with its emphasis on his famous family of familiars.

“Nice to know you already have me done as the traitor of the group”.

“We could use outsider, you know, the only one smart enough to see through Lucifer’s bullshit” Dean supplied.

Bobby grumbled something Crowley was pretty sure was supposed to be “Could have done more about it before now”, but Sam shot him a look and he fell silent.

“So where does he live?” he asked instead.

“Lucifer? Nobody knows”.

Bobby blinked.

“What”.

“As I said, he moved in with Lilith, but changed his address after her death. No one is allowed to know”.

“And none of you think that’s suspicious?”

“Those who do would rather stay alive than voice their thoughts”.

“Of course. Once again, the world on the brink because people are too scared to open their mouths...”

“Well, Crowley knows what his magic feels like” Dean said, “a location spell should be easy enough”.

He couldn’t help himself; he laughed.

“Oh, so that’s all? I’m just supposed to punch through all his wardings, making sure he doesn’t notice my spell, and come back with an address in mind while maintaining my sanity?”

“You clearly never had a Winchester familiar” Dean smirked and Crowley told himself he didn’t look devilishly attractive as he did so.

“No, and quite frankly – “

He was struck speechless when Dean held out his hand.

“Come on, let’s do this”.

There were many familiars who wouldn’t have offered their services this freely at such a short acquaintance, but he was coming to realize that Dean Winchester was anything but ordinary.

“Downstairs” he said, suddenly feeling a bit shy. It was ridiculous, of course; witches all over the world worked with familiars who weren’t theirs every day; but it had been so long that he’d rather they were alone.

“Aw”.

“Shut up Sammy. Alright, come on”.

As he followed Dean, he wondered when he’d been made a visitor in his own house.

“As far as I can see you got everything down here...” Dean said, strolling over to the table where he kept the most important spell ingredients.

“Yes, and I am capable of getting them on my own, thank you very much”.

Dean shook his head.

“Not exactly a team player, are you? Been alone too long. You’ll learn”.

But I don’t need to, he wanted to say. When this is over, I’m either dead or not seeing any of you again.

Yet he didn’t.

The damn familiar had a way of silencing him with a simple look.

“Let’s do this. No time like the present. I can keep us protected from his protection spells while you’re looking for Lucifer’s magic”.

“I didn’t know familiars could do that”.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, I bet”.

He narrowed his eyes.

“I’m still older than most of your little troop combined...”

“And unlikely to reach an even older age, if you don’t start looking for a familiar soon”.

“I have no intention to get bonded”.

“That’s what Sammy said until he met Sarah”.

“As much fun as it is to gossip about your family, I would rather kill myself with the spell. So, as you said, “Let’s do this”” he imitated Dean as best as he could.

He snickered.

“How long have you been living in America again?”

“Shut up”.

He’d worked with familiars before, bonded and unbound ones, and he’d never really understood what the fuzz was about. Sure, his powers had been boosted for a short time, but that had been about it.

Therefore, he didn’t expect much when he grasped Dean’s hand and began to chant.

He’d been wrong.

Power he’d never felt before flowed through him, making detecting Lucifer seem like the easiest thing in the world. Warmth filled him through the brink, and he could tell that he was giving it right back, and that Dean was working on sealing them off from detection as well as searching for the magic traces right along with him...

There. There was the dark, twisted feeling that had repelled Crowley from the beginning, it was concentrated in the east of town...

Something, a barrier, keeping him from honing in...

“Almost there” Dean mumbled, “these damn wardings...”

He was shaking lightly, and Crowley grabbed his hand tighter, sending more magic back to him.

He threw him a thankful glance, or maybe he was just imagining it, but –

Yes –

The barrier cracked and Crowley came through.

“125 Eastberry Avenue” he said decidedly, withdrawing and repairing Lucifer’s wardings. They couldn’t let him know what they’d been up to.

He was about to let go of Dean’s hand when the familiar stumbled into him, looking faint.

“Dean?”

“The protection was meant to drain energy” he mumbled, “so that no one would get through. I had to take it so you could tell – “

He almost fell down. Crowley held him up.

“You should lie down for a bit”.

Dean nodded, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Mind if I take a power nap?”

“Not at all” he said, looking at his sofa. Dean should just fit, and of course if he changed his form –

He did just that, but the next minute, Crowley felt him climbing up his leg.

“Dean – “

Before he could say anything else, the squirrel had slipped into the right pocket of his suit jacket, curled itself up and gone to sleep.

He stood there trying to make sense of what had just happened when Sam called down, “Everything alright?”

“Yes. We have an address”.

He walked carefully upstairs, conscious of the warm bulge in his suit.

“Where’s Dean?”

He gestured towards his pocket.

“Lucifer’s protections drained him”.

To his surprise, all the reaction he got where understanding nods from the witches and familiars around him. 

“Being near magic will have him back on track in no time” was all the explanation he got from Gilda, who eventually took pity on him.

“We’ll check out the address. You stay here – can’t risk Lucifer getting a glimpse of you just yet. Look after the idjit, would you?” Bobby asked.

He could only agree. If he should be spotted near Lucifer’s house...

And soon enough, they were all gone, leaving Crowley with Dean dead to the world in his pocket.

What an interesting day.


	4. Chapter 4

He’d just gathered his thoughts and realized that yes, he had entered into a conspiracy against his coven and there was a squirrel familiar fast asleep in his suit.

 Crowley poured himself a glass of Craig and sat down on the sofa, careful not to jostle the resting familiar.

He was granted fifteen minutes of peace before the tell-tale knock of his mother told him that he wasn’t having any more luck today.

“Mother” he sighed and got up when she came through the door, as usual not waiting for him to open it, quickly doing a hiding spell so she wouldn’t notice Dean.

“Fergus. Alone as usual, I see”.

“What can I say? I only like the best company”.

Dean stirred in his pocket.

She rolled her eyes.

“You’ll never find a familiar this way”.

He felt a twinge of amusement when he’d usually only be annoyed.

Then he realized it wasn’t his; the feeling was too faint to come from somewhere inside himself.

He was feeling Dean’s amusement about the fact that he literally had a familiar in his pocket while his mother admonished him.

Crowley had never connected with anyone as strongly with anyone, and their spell work had been enough to create a faint echo of a bond for a while.

“I am not looking for one”.

More amusement. Thankfully it was only a pseudo bond, and one he could already feel fainting, or he might actually have been tempted to smile.

“What are you up to these days, anyway? We rarely talk anymore”.

“That’s because you’re so busy drooling over our dear Supreme.”

The pseudo bond was all but gone at this point, but he could feel Dean moving and knew what he meant.

He had to tread carefully.

“You know I have a weakness for alpha males”.

“And his last partner died under tragic circumstances, have you never thought about that?”

“Lilith was never up for the job anyway”.

Ah, yes, the old rivalry before Lucifer came along. Mother had always been eager for the job... until the powerful witch showed up and did away with their Supreme.

Crowley had long ago decided that he wasn’t interested in reigning over a bunch of pathetic cry-babies.

Naturally, his “lack of ambition” had and continued to horrify his mother and...

“Where is Abaddon?”

“She’s working with the Supreme” Rowena said proudly. “He asked for her help”.

A spell where a witch needed more than one familiar?

Troubling to say the least. Plus, if any of them noticed the others...

He was actually _worried_ , he realized.

It must have been some faint trace of Dean’s emotions he had glimpsed through their temporary bond.

Since he had made a habit of _not caring_ for anyone but himself, it was the only explanation.

“Did he say what he wanted her for?” he asked, careful to sound bored

“No, and I am not about to ask”.

He was about to answer when he felt a slight nip at his suit jacket. He almost winced.

He’d have to give Dean a talk about Armani prices.

Or not. He reminded himself that their association would end soon, one way or the other.

“Just remember that it’s your and Abaddon’s problem, if anything goes wrong” he said lightly.

After his mother had left somewhat disgruntled, he sighed and poured himself another glass.

“I’ll take one too” Dean said, turning back human – thankfully after he’d got out of his suit.

He wordlessly handed him one.

“Man, your mother seems really nice”.

He rolled his eyes.

“I am aware she’s rather... unpleasant. When I was a child in Scotland, she wanted to trade me for three pigs.”

“Scotland? Really?”

Dean looked him up and down with...

Oh.

He liked what he saw, too.

“Did you wear a kilt?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know”.

It was good Charlie wasn’t nearby, because he was definitely flirting now, if only a little.

Dean was a very good-looking man, after all.

“Come on, let’s go to the cellar”.

As Dean sat down on the sofa, he said, “I like it better here. Not as sterile as upstairs”.

“I will have you know that the furniture comes from...”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s expensive. Big deal”.

“You seem to like my suit well enough, and that’s from Armani”.

If he’d hoped Dean would be embarrassed, he was disappointed, for Dean only laughed.

“Wish I could have seen your face. You need to be more careful, though.”

“Says the familiar who almost killed himself to get Lucifer’s address”.

“Please. I told you, just needed a power nap. Slept much shorter than I thought would be necessary, too – and I feel good as new”.

“May I ask something?”

“You will whether I allow it or not, I’d say”.

“You said Bobby’s was your father’s old familiar. That means your father was a witch”.

Dean nodded.

“Mom... she was his first”.

Even though years must have passed, he was still grieving.

“I – “ Crowley began, then stopped abruptly. He’d never comforted someone before, and he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago”.

Crowley was beginning to see a pattern. Where others usually took his silence for hostility or indifference, Dean was able to read him.

He wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with that.

Both Dean and Sam were half witch, half familiar, then. It certainly explained their stronger powers. Seemed like the genes of their mother had just overpowered those of their father; they’d both made good enough magic practitioners, Crowley was ready to bet.

“So that’s why you can block other witches’ protections” he said.

Dean grinned.

“Was waiting for you to catch on.” After a pause, he continued, “After Mom... after Mom burned during a spell, Dad... just gave up for a while. Until Bobby came along. He’d lost his first witch, his wife, too, so he got it. No idea what would have become of us without him”.

“Your father’s old familiar... Is that why he’s still with you? Because you bonded when you were just children? Normally i would have expected him to find another witch after...”

He trailed off.

“After my father bit it?” Dean asked calmly.

Between that and his admission earlier, Crowley had the distinct impression that they hadn’t had the best relationship.

“We leave it up to the familiar. Bobby wanted to stay. He’s family”.

He nodded. While he’d never been close to his own family members, he could imagine others might be.

“What about you? Grape vine says you got a kid”.

“Gavin. His mother was human, back in the days. He’s almost two hundred years old”.

“Well, to parents they always stay babies, right?”

“I wouldn’t say that. Most of the time he hates me”.

Dean shook his head.

“I thought my family had issues”.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Maybe I want to”.

As amusing as the thought was, Crowley couldn’t imagine anyone spending time with his family because they wanted to.

“Trust me, you don’t. Once this is over, you’ll be free of all of us”.

“You really don’t think much of your own coven, do you”.

“If you knew what I know, you wouldn’t either”.

“Depends...” Dean muttered, his eyes trailing to Crowley’s lips.

It would be a way to pass the time, Crowley thought, leaning in slightly –

The front door banged open.

“Dean! Crowley!” Charlie called out.

“You need to hear this now!!!”

Dean got up with something that looked like a regretful smile.

Interesting.

“Here we are, your Highness, what have you found?”

“It’s bad, boy” Bobby said.

“We could all feel the power despite the barriers he put up – and Sam and Sarah did a reconnaissance spell. Turns out there were at least four familiars in that building”.

Dean frowned.

“Four? Crowley’s mother said she had lent her familiar to Lucifer, but she didn’t mention anyone else”.

“Your mother was here?” Sam asked. “Did she – “

“Don’t worry, I hid Dean from her view”.

Bobby nodded approvingly.

“Good, but that still doesn’t account for the other familiars” Charlie said.

Crowley watched the familiars in the room trade glances.

“Mind sharing with the class?” he asked.

“Well, you see...” Sam began. “We’re all pretty happy with our witches here, and our coven has always made sure both the witch and the familiar want the bond. But sometimes...”

“Sometimes familiars have bonded to witches for the wrong reasons” Gilda continued. “Many wanted the power that came with it, and some felt forced into it”.

“The point is” Dean said, “can you say with absolute certainty that all familiars in your coven are happy?”

“I...”

He had never paid much attention to the details of the bonds within a coven. Being bonded meant they would work together, and that was all he needed to know.

But thinking about it...

“I don’t think so. I recall several instances where Abaddon grew rather angry at mother, especially when I was younger.”

Despite or maybe because of the... other tension running between them.

At least they could exclude one familiar, Crowley realized remembering his all but daughter-in-law.

“ Fiona would never work against Gavin, though. She loves him, I’m certain”.

Dean nodded.

“Fair enough. What about the others?”

“Metatron always looks unhappy, but I can hardly blame him being bond to Naomi”.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“I feel some history there”.

“None that concerns you, Squirrel. Let’s just say things were complicated for a while”.

Far more complicated than he’d wanted them to become. He should have known better than to have an affair within his own coven.

And for some reason, he didn’t want to tell Dean more about it, although the subject had become one of indifference to him decades ago.

The familiar thankfully didn’t ask any more questions about her.

Instead, he stated, “Alright, let’s go over every single witch and familiar bond you know about”.

What they find is not encouraging.

Crowley can remember plenty of evidence that the witches and familiars work together because they have to, but precious little that they like it. Or even each other.

“What is it with that coven and just bonding for the sake of it” Bobby grumbled. 

“Many assume bonding is necessary to reach your full potential” Crowley replied.

Bobby chuckled.

“Ain’t it ironic. The one witch in this goddamn coven who actually would benefit from a familiar steadfastly refuses to believe it”.

“I have come as far as I can go, magic wise” Crowley said. “I don’t know why a familiar should help me in any way”.

Although after the spell he’d performed with Dean’s help...

Maybe he’d just been so long without a familiar allowing him to boost his magic, he’d forgotten what it felt like. It was a more logical explanation than...

Dean, in his squirrel form, hopped on his left shoulder again. He managed not to flinch. Barely.

He squeaked.

“True. If you’ve already established rapport...” Sam said, glancing at Sarah and Bobby.

“What do you – “

And then, he felt it.

Dean’s mind gently nudging his, the pseudo bond returning without effort.

He understood his meaning. Dean was a familiar; it would be far easier for him to see which of his brethren were unhappy with their bonds if he allowed him in...

Still, Crowley hesitated. He’d always been the most comfortable on his own.

And yet this didn’t feel like an intrusion...

He let Dean in.

He couldn’t say how long they’d stood there, going through his memories, when Dean left his shoulder and changed back.

He clicked his tongue.

“Yep. Basically, we’re all going to die”.

“That bad?” Sam asked.

“Weakest bonds I’ve ever seen”.

“Gavin...” Crowley started to protest.

“Don’t worry about that”.

Dean clasped his shoulder.

“He and Fiona are in love. Their bond is one of the stronger ones. Too bad Gavin isn’t that powerful a witch”.

He would rather not have his son involved, anyway.

Dean’s hand slipped from his shoulder but he smiled at him knowingly.

“Alright, so we have one good bond in this whole coven and an evil witch ready to extort that very fact” Bobby said. “What the hell are we going to do?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly assume this chapter will make you happy, my friends.

Crowley should probably have been paying more attention to the other members of his coven, but that couldn’t be remedied now.

“We need more information” Dean said.

“What are you thinking?” Sam asked.

Dean wad definitely the leader of the group, Crowley thought, even though Sarah and Charlie were witches and Bobby was considerably older than the others.

Not that he could blame them. There was just something about him...

He’d certainly granted him access to his mind without much prompting at all.

Again: he blamed these damn green eyes. Who ever allowed him to be that convincing, even as a squirrel?

“What I’m saying is, we need an inside man. A familiar, who knows all about bonds”.

Dean looked at him.

“And we’ve got an unbound witch right here. If I stay and we pretend we’re trying to see if we’re compatible...”

“You’ll be using a different last name of course” Crowley said, immediately catching on.

“Lucifer and Michael will already be suspicious because you saved my life, we don’t need them to know you’re a Winchester as well.”

“No problem. Nothing the matter with Dean Smith.”

“The coven will accept you, because they have no other choice. I have every right to look for a familiar.”

“I’ll stay in a squirrel most of the time, makes it easier to be ignore while I observe the others”.

“If you need more information...”

“Thanks, already got enough – “

“You know we’re all still here watching you make plans right?” Sam asked, sounding strange.

“Yes, but do any of you have a better idea?” Dean replied. “Crowley’s respected, at least, so I should – “

“I wouldn’t exactly use the word – “

“Respected, feared, whatever” Dean told Crowley. “There’s a reason Lucifer wants you dead.”

He’d never thought he might actually be scared of what he could do.

Dean grinned.

“Alright then. Nothing to see here. Just a witch and a familiar testing the waters”.

“I’m not at all sure I want you within a ten mile radius around Lucifer, boy” Bobby said, “But we really need the Intel”.

“The second something goes wrong, you send us a message, alright?” Sarah asked.

Dean nodded.

The others took their leave shortly afterwards.

 

 

“Guys” Sam said slowly as soon as they had transported back home, “are you seeing what I am – “

“He’s Dean’s witch!” Charlie interrupted him excitedly. “Did you see how he just perched on his shoulder? And how easily he gained access? And don’t get me started on that eye sex-“

“They seem perfectly suited” Gilda hastened to say. “I knew it from the moment we entered the house. Dean already acts like they’re bonded.”

“And Crowley’s magic straining for his alright” Sarah added. “I doubt he’s aware of it, though”.

“You can say that again. Never seen a witch who closed themselves off like that” Bobby stated. “He’s basically built barriers around his barriers”.

“Dean’ll help him out, don’t worry” Sarah said. “If there’s anyone who can get under your skin...”

“I was so worried Dean wasn’t going to find a suitable witch!” Charlie gushed.

“I don’t know” Sam said slowly, “Considering Crowley “suitable” –“

“It’s not our choice” Bobby told him. “It’s Dean’s. If he wants to bond with Crowley, we’ll have to live with it – whatever form their relationship should take”.

“Oh yes, whatever form” Charlie agreed, winking at her familiar.

Sam sighed.

“And I thought this family was already chaotic enough”.

 

 

Crowley realized he hadn’t lived with anyone in centuries when Dean decided that the right place for him was the cellar once more (“I didn’t notice the snooker table before”).

He didn’t even know Dean, not really.

For lack of anything better to do, he joined him in the basement.

“So” Dean said, gathering the balls together using his forearms, “I’ve been thinking about our roles. Here’s the thing: I can only do so much by observation alone. But if I was to play a bigger part...”

“How?” he asked, taking up one of them.

Dean rolled his eyes, trying to get it back; Crowley playfully slapped his hand away.

“Let’s say you’re super sweet on bonding with me. Granted, your coven probably knows you’ve never wanted a familiar, but now you’ve realized we’re compatible and how much easier it is you cast spells, you want it. And I’m a familiar without a coven who is going along with it out of necessity”.

“The other familiars, the ones working with Lucifer, would try to recruit you once they were certain of you” Crowley mused, once more making the ball disappear while Dean tried to grab it.

“Exactly. And now give me that, mister; I wanna play”.

“You sure that’s all you want to do?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

It was not the smartest thing he’d ever done, flirting with Dean while they were both involved in a highly dangerous mission that might cost them bother their lives; but there was nothing wrong with a bit of a pleasant distraction, and if he was willing...

Dean stepped closer, looking down at him.

“What are you thinking of?”

“I’m sure you know”.

The tension the others had disturbed before returned, only stronger.

“I might have an idea...” Dean said. “Not sure we should, though”.

“I’ve always enjoyed doing things I shouldn’t. Rather certain you agree with me there”.

And with these words, Crowley drew Dean into a demanding kiss.

Later, lying in his bed besides him, he decided this hadn’t been a good idea.

This had been a _great_ idea.

“That was pretty awesome” Dean said, “We should do it again soon”.

“Trust me, we will”.

Dean snorted.

“Someone looks happy with himself”.

“And it’s not just me, I’d say”.

“So when do you have your next coven meeting?” Dean asked casually while they were dressing.

“Two days from now. They’ve been happening more frequently lately.”

“So he can recruit more familiars, I bet. Well, we’ll see about that.”

Living with Dean was surprisingly easy. He was clean, smart, funny, and a good cook.

Not to mention pretty good in bed.

Not that anyone had to know about that.

At thee end of the second day, asthey were getting ready to leave for the meeting, Crowley was staring to fear that he’d actually miss the familiar.

He hadn’t been as relaxed in the presence of another in a long time. Maybe ever.

He chose not to wonder why.

Whatever the reason, he could deal with it later.

“Ready to go?”

“Sure thing. Lead the way” Dean said, changing and jumping unto his left shoulder again.

“This will be quite the entrance” Crowley said.

Dean nudged him with an excited squeak.

He caught their mirror images in the window of his living room right before he transported them to the meeting, and was surprised at his own smiling face.

He made sure he looked more like his usual self as he and Dean appeared in the meeting room.

“Fergus?” his mother asked immediately, her gaze travelling to the squirrel on his left shoulder.

“Mother. Gavin” he greeted his son, who materialized next to them with his familiar that very moment.

“Father---“ he trailed off.

“You found a familiar?”

“This is Dean” he introduced them.

Dean squeaked in greeting; Fiona, in her feline form, happily poured.

It occurred to Crowley that she was sitting on Gavin’s left shoulder, just like Dean was on his.

“We’re testing the waters, so to speak. Seeing if we fit”.

“I’d say” Abaddon said, stepping up to them. She’d always preferred her human form, unlike Dean, who felt at home both as a man and a squirrel, as he’d explained when Crowley had asked yesterday during dinner.

“Your powers seem to align very well”.

She narrowed her eyes.

She must have been a witch and familiar offspring too; she certainly knew more about bonds and magic than she’d let on.

He wondered how long she’d been lying to his mother.

Dean hissed instinctively and moved closer to Crowley, as far as he could.

If they’d been bonded, he could have told him to relax silently; but as it was, he could only hope he could draw comfort whether they were talking or not. Abaddon was rather unsettling.

“He doesn’t like you very much. Can’t say I’m surprised”.

Dean nudged him. Even without a bond, it was pretty clear that he was telling him not to be an idiot.

Gavin was staring at them.

“I thought you didn’t want a familiar. You always said – “

“That was before I met Dean” he interrupted him, ignoring how it sounded.

“Look at that, you’re growing soft in your old age” Rowena commented.

“I assure you that’s not the case, mother”.

The other members of the coven had arrived while they were talking; and now Lucifer made his grand entrance.

Crowley couldn’t deny that it helped having Dean with him when these cold eyes zeroed in on the pair.

They knew Dean had saved his life, of course, but they didn’t know what they were planning.

Their cover story worked even better for Lucifer and Michael, in fact; what was more plausible than Crowley taking the familiar who’d saved him as his own?

“Fergus Crowley with a familiar. Never thought I’d see the day”.

“This is Dean Smith”.

“A little small, don’t you think?”

Of course he would, with that mutt Michael at his feet looking bigger than ever.

“His form suits us both just fine”.

“I suppose you wanted someone in your magnitude...”

Now he was childishly insulting his height. Crowley would have rolled his eyes if he had dared.

Irritation was rolling off of Dean in waves; this wouldn’t do; he had to see annoyed at Crowley, not Lucifer, and he quickly said, “We both hope the bond will form soon”, emphasis on we, to remind him.

Dean didn’t need more to remember.

The rest of the meeting – more of Lucifer’s fantasies of “creating a world where everyone is equal” as if he didn’t want to crown himself king – he did an admirably job of acting uncomfortable whenever Crowley mentioned their forming bond, or helping him with spells.

He hoped of his shoulder and sat at the table in front of him, demonstratively not looking at him once.

After the meeting, the witches and familiars usually mingled. Crowley had always made a point of avoiding the others, but today he stayed.

“Your Dean is very well-behaved” his mother said.

Crowley could only stare at her.

Why was she talking about Dean as if he was a pet?

“Abaddon needed some time to learn her place. I don’t think you’ll have any problems –“

Dear God, he’d read their relationship completely differently.

“I don’t think so either” Gavin interrupted her.

Crowley knew his son well enough to realize he was furious.

He was starting to feel the same way.

Familiars were not animals witches used to be more powerful. Familiars were their own persons – Crowley should know, after two days with Dean, whose personality shone through no matter if he was a squirrel or a man, and who’d made him laugh more than he had in the last decade at least, even though he also delighted in getting a rise out of Crowley.

“Dean is certainly... a good familiar” he said, his voice strained; and through Gavin’s confused reaction, he realized he had to make more of an effort.

If he agreed with his mother, it would make Dean’s betrayal all the more believable.

“I have no doubt he knows exactly what is expected of him”.

The answer seemed to satisfy his mother; but after she’d left them, Gavin asked quietly, “Can we come by your place later?”

“Of course”.

He assumed they wanted to get to know his familiar better, but instead his son said “I can’t wait to hear why you just lied” before moving away.

“He’s a clever boy” Dean said when he told him later that evening.

“Comes after his father”.

“Aw, how sweet, you think I’m clever”.

“I think you’re obnoxious. But you played your role well, I must say. Lucifer has already approached me – or rather, Michael has been in contact”.

“What did he say?”

“It’s not exactly good news”.


	6. Chapter 6

All of them? All the familiars of the coven are in on it?“

“Almost. There’s one exception”.

“Fiona”.

“They know she loves Gavin too much to ever contemplate something like this”.

Crowley’s mind was reeling from what Dean had told him.

“Stealing their witches’ powers...”

“And transferring every last bit to Lucifer. Only familiars could do it, because they are used to channel magic”.

“Of course”.

It was an ingenious plan.

An insane one, true, but ingenious.

“What did you say?”

“I acted as if I had fallen into a squirrel trap and needed help to get out” he smirked. “They ate it up. They all seem to think you are this unlikeable, vile witch no one can stand”.

That was because he was but before he could say so, there was a knock on the door.

Dean frowned.

“I told the others I would call them, there’s no reason to – “

“It’s Gavin and Fiona. Should we tell them the truth?”

“It’s your family. Your call.”

Crowley opened the door. Gavin stormed in, Fiona following him, considerably calmer.

“Why did you lie to grandmother?”

“It may shock you, but I have done that on a regular basis since I could talk”.

“That’s not what I meant! I know you! This was different! You were about to do the right thing for once! You’ve never been afraid to speak up, so why now – “

“If you took a few breaths, perhaps he could explain it to you” Dean interrupted him. “Hello to you too, Gavin. Fiona – haven’t seen you in that form before, but you’re just as pretty”.

He winked jokingly. She giggled.

“You’ve found yourself quite the charmer, Crowley”.

One of the reasons he’d always liked his son’s familiar was that she’d not tried even once to address him by his hated first name.

“Trust me, I know”.

“But – why – you allowed him to speak for you – “

“Don’t you do the same with Fiona?”

The penny dropped with Gavin, who slowly looked from him to Dean and back again.

“Why didn’t you tell Gran?”

“Because we’re after something bigger”.

A pause followed.

“I won’t lie to you” Crowley said finally.

“What we’re doing is dangerous, and I understand if you don’t want to get involved”.

“What have you done to him?” Gavin asked Dean, baffled.

He shook his head.

“That’s all him, believe me. I’ve seen how much he cares about you”.

This concept seemed to confuse Gavin into silence.

Fiona stepped up to him and took his hand, talking to him through their bond.

Now that he had Dean living with him, he was getting better at reading familiars, and he was pleased to see she loved Gavin as much as he’d always thought.

“Lucifer is trying to make the other familiars of the coven transfer the powers of their witches to him”.

Fiona’s eyes widened.

“But that’s a betrayal of trust – “

“Trust me, most of them would go even further” Dean said.

“They hate their witches. Abaddon in particular thinks little of Rowena”.

Fiona looked away.

“I suspected something like that” she said quietly. “That’s why I kept away from them. It’s... unpleasant to consider”.

“Trust me, it is, so if you two – “

“It’s bad enough when Father treats me as a child, I don’t need you to do it too”.

“Gavin” Fiona said softly, “They’re just worried for our safety.”

“And what about me being worried about my father!?”

The thought had never occurred to Crowley.

“What Gavin means to say is we’re in” Fiona said mildly, trading a glance with Dean.

Familiars understood each other in a way witches would never be able to, Crowley had realized in the last few days; Dean simply nodded and accepted her statement.

“So you’re waiting until this is over to bond?” she continued.

“We’re not getting bonded” Crowley replied. “This is an act so Dean can observe the other witches and their familiars”.

“I have to say it is one hell of an act, Father. As a matter of fact...”

But he turned around and looked at Fiona, who seemed to have once more contacted him through their connection, and stopped talking.

“Thing is” Dean said smoothly, “If Lucifer gets the power of all his coven’s witches, the whole world’s screwed. I’ll go alert my coven”.

And he disappeared into the basement once again, where he spent most of his time, now that Crowley thought about it.

“His coven? You’re working with others?”

Crowley nodded.

“Since Michael tried to kill me and Dean interfered – “

“Michael did what?”

He had thoroughly underestimated just how much he meant to his son.

After an explanation, Fiona said “I’m glad Dean was there.”

“You and me both, sweetheart”.

But instead of being annoyed at him for using a pet name on his familiar, Gavin looked relieved.

“He’s very brave. I wouldn’t take on Michael”.

“Not sure if I wouldn’t rather call it reckless” Crowley replied, remembering Dean being thrown down on the pavement. He winced.

“He was lucky I always keep healing draughts in the house.”

“How’s your protection elixir coming along?” Fiona asked. “I remember you had some problems with it”.

“It’s done” he answered, still a little surprised himself. During the last two days, he’d had several breakthroughs, Dean always there to provide suggestions.

“I’m rather sure that I can conceal myself from Lucifer for hours at a time now”.

“You’ll need it. If he already has the support of the familiars...” Gavin bit his lip.

“We’ll have to be careful, Father”.

“Oh please, where’s the fun in that?”

Gavin gave him the first genuine smile he’d seen on his face in decades.

“Should have known you’d enjoy this”.

“Enjoy isn’t the right word.”

But it was as close as he could get describing his present situation. Dean wasn’t the only support he’d gained; his coven regularly checked in with them; and he was starting to like all of them, especially Sarah and Bobby.

They really should put an end to Lucifer soon, lest he get too used to having people in his life.

“We are going to keep our eyes and ears wide open” Fiona promised after Dean had returned, “I just wish I’d gotten close to any of the others...”

“Not your fault. Most of them are creeps. I’d rather not talk to them myself” Dean assured her.

She smiled and drew him into a hug he reciprocated despite his obvious surprise.

When they let go, Dean’s face was scarlet and Crowley wondered if she’d whispered something in his ear.

“Fiona and Gavin are pretty great” Dean said once they’d left, “I might even have underestimated his magical capabilities.

Crowley felt strangely proud at the thought.

“And hey, more on our side. That can only be a plus”.

And Lucifer probably wouldn’t allow his mother and his son to live out of principle, he thought.

“Hey” Dean said, “Don’t look so glum. Like I said, this is a good thing. I understand you freaking out about Gavin – one of the upsides of our plans is that Sammy is currently miles away from Lucifer – but...” he trailed off.

“God I am bad at this giving comfort thing”.

“I’d say you are perfectly suited for the task”.

In fact he felt more relaxed already.

Dean grinned.

“I’ll see what I can find for dinner”.

And, once more a squirrel he hopped up the stairs.

“I don’t have any nuts in the house” he called after him, causing Dean to make the wheezing noise he’d come to realize was laughter.

He grinned.

Dean was as infantile as clever, and as obnoxious as comforting to be around. Maybe it were these qualities that made him such easy company; despite his reluctance to even search for a familiar, all the witches at the meeting had believed they were testing out a fresh bond.

Dean was already going through his fridge as he came into the kitchen.

“Not really sure I see anything catching my fancy here. Maybe we should go out?”

“Go out to eat?”

“Yes, your Highness, some of us like to see other members of our species now and then. And having dinner would cement our cover story”.

It would also look like a date, but neither of them mentioned it.

The owner of the witch and familiar restaurant in town was called Pamela, a familiar without a witch herself.

She was amusing, if sometimes tiring because of her enjoyment of making jokes about her and Crowley “tying the bond” because they were the only ones left.

Tonight though, she was beaming, her unseeing eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“Crowley! So it’s true what I heard?”

“Name’s Dean” he said, reaching out and taking her hand, “I’m a – “

“Squirrel” she said, “how unusual”.

“How did you – “

“Pamela has something of a... sixth sense when it comes to things like this”.

“That’s probably why Crowley has been hiding from me for years now” she said, smirking. “He’s scared of what I might find”.

“Oh, trust me, there’s plenty to see if you know how to look for it” Dean answered lightly, although there was a hint of warning in his voice.

She laughed.

“A bit of fire, I see. Just right to wake this old boy up. Crowley, this will be amazing”.

“Yeah yeah” he mumbled.

“I have to say” she began, taking of her glasses (to Dean’s credit he didn’t flinch at the white orbs she believed made her look “spooky”) “You aren’t bonded yet, but the potential is the strongest I have ever seen”.

“In that case, I’ll give us up as lost” Crowley replied.

“Crowley!” Dean admonished him.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s our Paris” Pamela said cheerfully. “Now let’s see where I can set you up for the night”.

Crowley was sure it was just coincidence that she happened to place them where everyone in the restaurant had a clear view of their table,

“You and Pamela...” Dean said, picking up the menu. “You seem... close”.

“We neither are nor were involved” he told him bluntly. “We were never in the right mood”.

Dean sounded almost... jealous.

Crowley didn’t revel in the thought. At all. Not even a little bit.  

This was only a business arrangement, he reminded himself.

One that had certain delightful features, but still only a business arrangement.

Dean touched his hand.

“Have you picked your order yet?”

Dean was doing that more and more, touching him. He rather liked it. According to Dean, it was supposed to make their ruse more believable but he did it when they were alone, too. Maybe it was just easier to play his part all the time?

“Oh dear, I can tell you’re making heart eyes at each other and I can’t see” Pamela reminded them when she took their order.

Their next visitor was far less welcome.

“Crowley. Things seem to be going well”.

“Lucifer” he greeted him, while Dean was eying Michael once more, distaste in his eyes.

He really couldn’t blame him, since he’d almost killed him.

Lucifer leaned forward and whispered, “No matter what you’re planning... you won’t win”.

“Oh well” he shrugged, “then I don’t have to worry about it, do I?”

Lucifer smirked at him, undoubtedly thinking of using his (not his) familiar to steal his powers and left, Michael at his heels.

“Aren’t they just adorable” Dean hissed. “Seriously, that familiar barely has any thought of his own”.

“Hey” surprising himself, he was the one to reach out and take Dean’s hand this time, “Aren’t you the one who tells me we need to think positive?”

Dean grinned at him.

“That’s the spirit”.

After an excellent meal, Dean transformed and hopped unto his shoulder.

After they’d come home, he jumped down the basement stairs; a minute later, Crowley heard Robert Johnson singing hell hound on my trail.

He chuckled as he joined him on the sofa, Dean a squirrel once more.

He didn’t hesitate to make himself comfortable on his lap once he’d sat down.

After hesitating for a moment, Crowley moved to pet him.

Dean made a contented noise.

Crowley was starting to suspect that, whether they won or not, he just might be in trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

One unforeseen consequence to Gavin and Fiona finding out was a newfound understanding between him and his son that Crowley would never have expected.

One evening, they came to visit; Crowley, having used a transport spell so Dean could get his family up to speed, told himself he wasn’t relieved when they showed up and he was spared having to eat alone.

“I always thought you agreed with grandmother about familiars” Gavin admitted. “she thinks I’m keeping Fiona as a kind of – kind of – “

“Sex slave” she said bluntly. Gavin blushed.

Crowley found himself liking Fiona more and more.

“I kept telling him that you wouldn’t think that, but he wouldn’t listen. I mean, I can’t remember you agreeing with your mother even once”.

“Quite the observer, aren’t you”.

She nodded, grinning.

“You really know how to pick them. That’s my boy”.

“Right back at you. Dean’s pretty cool. Where exactly does he come from?”

“Kansas. They becoming involved at all was pure chance – one of his witch friends travelled through here a few months ago and realized Lucifer was up to something. Remember Charlie Bradbury?”

“The one with the fairy bluebird familiar?” Fiona asked immediately, probably because bird familiars tended to be a bit nervous around her, despite her never harming another creature in her life.

“Redhead, right?” Gavin said.

He nodded.

Gavin hummed.

“Must be pretty bright. Not everyone gets Lucifer”.

“How long have you had your suspicions?”

Gavin and Fiona talked through their bond.

“A while” his son admitted. “We went back and forth on whether we should talk to you about it”.

Meaning that Fiona had been for and he had been against it, but Crowley didn’t comment on it.

“This, though – we never expected this”.

“It’s – it’s vile” Fiona said, shuddering. “Don’t get me wrong, many of you don’t treat their familiars as you ought. Still...”

“Help me out here” Crowley interrupted her.

“I have never been interested in familiar bonds, as you know. But familiars can’t get bonded against their will. I understand some might feel they have no choice...”

“It’s complicated” she replied. “I get why some witches are confused. The point is, most familiars are too, just a little. In a way, we are born to serve and help witches. You could argue that channelling magic is part of our nature, our very core. And therefore, it might seem callous to ignore a witch who wishes to bond with us. And don’t forget that for centuries, unbound familiars not searching for a witch were considered unusual.”

Ah yes, the good old times.

Crowley had never been fond of them.

Sending messengers on a month-long journey to get the news? Please. Give him a smart phone any day. 

 “So you see, there might be a lot of resentment brewing in many familiars. But there’s a difference between looking down at someone and wishing to be free and potentially killing them”.

It was true. Many witches were so intertwined with their magic, so attuned to a life with their power that robbing them of it would instantly kill them.

Unless their familiars decided to help them out by channelling their own powers, but there was little hope of it in this case considering who was stealing magic in the first place.

“And magic enhancers, too” Gavin said. “Not even Gran ever thought of using them”.

“She knew I would report her immediately” Crowley replied.

“I love you Gavin, but sometimes I wonder what family I bonded myself to” Fiona sighed.

“It’s not as bad as I thought, sweetheart. I’m surprised too”.

Gavin looked down at his plate.

“I certainly didn’t think you knew how to make burgers, Father”.

“I knew, I just never bothered to go shopping for the ingredients. Dean insists the fridge be filled well at all times. The amount of food he can put away...”

Fiona and Gavin traded glances. They were definitely up to something.

“So you and Dean have a deal”.

“Yes. Basically we are lovers in league against Satan, for the time being”.

If he had had hopes of his son and his familiar being shocked into silence by his frank admission of what they must already know, they had been idle.

Then again, he and Dean were not exactly subtle when they let their guard down.

“Why just for the time being?”

“You know why. I have no place in my life for a familiar, or a partner”.

“Dean doesn’t seem to be a nuisance to you” Gavin said.

“No, I’d hardly let him live with me in that case. But there’s a difference between being annoying and being... welcome”.

“So Dean’s not welcome into your life?”

Crowley would much rather not think about this question at all. Despite his centuries of cutting himself off from anyone who could turn into a weakness, Dean had wormed his way under his skin much faster than he would have ever thought possible.

“Father” Gavin said, “just talk to him”.

“To tell him what? His life is in Kansas. You should see him with his coven – or rather, I should say, his family. They’re very close”.

“And what keeps you from switching covens?”

He’d never even considered the possibility.

And it wasn’t one, he told himself. He was old, set in his ways; Dean was not even forty yet, and bound to find a witch better suited, if he wanted to.

“Hopeless” Gavin muttered.

“Logical” he shot back. “No, everything is working out fine at the moment. And when this is over, and we’re still standing, Dean is going back to Kansas.”

There was nothing to say against meeting up now and then though, if Dean wished to –

“Good evening”.

He turned around. Dean must have had a witch of his coven send him back.

It was a pleasant surprise; Crowley had assumed he’d spend the night.

For some reason, he looked downcast and troubled.

“Is everything alright with your coven?”

“What?” Dean blinked.

“Yeah, sure. Everything’s fine – except for them freaking out over our new possible evil overlord. Sammy’s been doing research in transferring magical powers from one witch to another”.

He grimaced.

“Nasty stuff. I already knew it would probably kill them, but by all accounts it’s incredibly painful”.

Crowley frowned. As much as he and his mother had always quarrelled, he did not want to die her a painful death.

At least not at anyone’s hands but his own.

“Anything about how to stop it?”

“That’s just the thing – it’s not as simple as a spell. It’s more a ritual”.

“With several components, I gather?”

Dean nodded.

“All in all, we have several shots at stopping them. Unless they’ve already managed to get far ahead – which is why I have to infiltrate the others fast”.

“Gavin” Fiona said. “We’ve been fighting horribly over the last few months”.

“We haven’t .-“

“You’ve been treating me worse and worse”.

“What are you talking about, have I done anything –“

“Small wonder really? Should have known better than to go for Fergus Crowley’s son – “

“What do you think – “

He’s about to object when – the other familiar Not his, definitely not his) does.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Dean asked. “Right now you’re still innocent. If they caught us, you could just plead ignorance”.

Fiona waved her hands in the air.

“We said we were in”.

“Would anyone care to fill me in?” Gavin asked.

Fiona drew him away from the table; they were soon having a heated silent discussion in the corner.

“Someone intruding your every thought... it seems a bit invasive, don’t you think?” Crowley asked for lack of something better to say.

“Yeah... well, we will never have that problem” Dean pointed out, sitting down but leaning away from him as opposed towards him, as he usually did.

“I already ate at Sam’s don’t worry”.

Crowley couldn’t help but feel that Dean was being strangely distant, but before he could ask, Fiona and Gavin stepped up to them.

“I’ll help you” she announced, Gavin nodding even though he looked worried.

“Hey, promise you we’ll look out for one another, alright? We can pretend we bonded over the horrors of being bonded or almost bonded to a Crowley”.

Dean grinned, and unwarranted hope filled him when he saw it was his usual grin – one that made his eyes look even brighter.

After Gavin and Fiona had left, the familiar grew unusually silent however, soon making his way into the basement.

Crowley felt instinctively he wouldn’t be welcome.

Maybe Dean was homesick. He’d been with his coven all evening, and reminded that he missed them.

It was the best explanation he could come up with.

Dean slept in his bed that night, but in his squirrel form.

The next morning, everything was back to normal, and Crowley decided not to waste time speculating about whatever had bothered him.

“So another coven meeting already? I don’t like this. It could be that they are growing closer to the finish line”.

“I was thinking the same thing” Crowley admitted.

“Maybe we should both travel to your coven later. I’d rather be in on the research”.

“You would?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Like Fiona said – I’m in, aren’t I?”

“Yeah” Dean said, “I suppose you are”.

Then he kissed him.

Dean hadn’t touched him since he’d returned from his coven, and Crowley eagerly accepted his offer to spend some time in bed before they left.

The coven meeting was only more of the same. Witches were so gullible when they heard exactly what they wanted to hear.

He found himself mostly watching Abbadon, the way her eyes wandered across the assorted witches, her smile clearly saying she knew something they did not, and enjoying herself way too much.

His hands balled into fists under the table, and for a moment, he understood the attractions of bonds. He would have given anything to know what Dean was thinking, but he was once more a squirrel sitting in front of him.

Fiona was doing an admirable job of acting discontented and uneasy at Gavin’s side, and his son wasn’t at all bad at brooding.

Not that Crowley was surprised. He remembered the expression all too well from his teenage years back in Scotland.

A faint trace of amusement touched him.

He realized it came from Dean.

When he concentrated on it, he got something along the line of _Looks like his father when he’s moping._

 _I don’t look like that_ , he tried to say.

_Yeah, you do._

The pseudo bond had returned, a little stronger than before. Dean’s voice was faint, but he could still understand him. He was getting more than weak impressions of his emotions.

He’d have to ask him about it later.

Crowley stayed well away from the familiars after the meeting was done. Both Dean and Fiona had their roles to play.

Gavin stepped up to him.

“I’m supposed to act like I’m complaining about Fiona” he told him, looking furious.

Crowley suppressed a smile.

“Since no one can currently hear us, I assume I’m supposed to tell you about how unruly Dean is?”

“Something like that”.

Somehow, he felt closer to his son than he had – in years, at least.

“Do you think it’s working?” he asked quietly.

“Fiona just informed me they are so blinded by Lucifer’s promises they’re not surprised at all she wants to join. And of course Dean’s stuck with you, so they understand him only too well”.

He must have looked angrier than he’d thought because he added, “They don’t know you very well”.

“Or too well” he mumbled.

“Self-deprecating humour, Father?”

“You just said no one here knows me very well”.

“Guess that’s true”.

“What are you two whispering about?”

Their eyes met and they sighed as they turned to face Rowena.

“They are closer than we thought” Dean announced later that evening, “Much closer”.

“They already are two thirds – “

“Two thirds?” Gavin interrupted his familiar.

“How did anyone miss that?”

Dean looked grim.

“You better go home and pretend to fight on the way Crowley, I need you to accompany me to my coven. Now”.


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh, you’re both here? Awesome! GUYS! Dean and his witch are here!”

Crowley, still a little confused about just how little effort it had taken him to transport them both to Kansas with Dean’s help, was once more helplessly confronted with Charlie’s enthusiasm.

Dean chuckled.

“Charlie, he hasn’t known you for that long. Turn it down a bit; guy’s not been working with others for centuries”.

“Right, sorry”.

“It’s no problem” he assured her.

The mansion they had entered was buzzing with magic.

“I assume this house is invisible to human eyes?”

She nodded.

“Structured the hiding spell myself. No one we don’t like comes even near the threshold.”

Crowley was still wondering how he had made the list of being liked by _anyone_ when a moose stormed towards them, making happy noises.

Dean rolled his eyes but transformed and hopped unto Sam’s antlers.

“One of the reasons this place is so big. So Sam can be comfortable in both his forms”.

“How do they...” Crowley trailed off, unsure if it was polite to ask whether Sam and Dena could understand their hooting and squeaking at another.

Wait, when had he started worrying about being polite in the first place?

“Your guess is as good as mine” Sarah said, entering the room.

“Get used to that scene every time they are separated for more than two hours, by the way”.

He was about to reply that he didn’t have to get used to anything since things were bound to come to an end when Bobby interrupted them, “What are the idjits talking about now? Anything that can’t be shared with the class?”

They transformed, both grinning.

“Ah Bobby, you know I have to make sure Sammy’s treated well”.

Crowley couldn’t imagine a place where ill-treatment was less likely.

“Whatever. So what have you found out? Familiars trying to steal their witches’ powers. In my four hundred years, I have never heard anything like it”.

He was even older than Crowley, he registered with surprise. That meant that the coven was so fond of him they regularly allowed him instead of one of the bonded familiars to channel magic, ensuring he was healthy and well.

“If you knew my mother and her familiar you wouldn’t be surprised”.

“Dean said she’s a piece of work. Told us your son’s pretty sharp though”.

“And you should see his familiar. She got them believing she’s interested in five minutes” Dean boasted.

“Nice to know some members of that coven still got their heads on right. So how many witches’ powers would be stolen with that ritual, exactly?”

“Twenty-two”.

“The power of twenty-two witches in one... And you say magic enhancers are involved, too? How the Hell will he ensure that he doesn’t burn up immediately?”

“Easy enough” Crowley said. “He’ll let Michael take the heat”.

“And his familiar will just accept that?”

“He’s completely subservient to him” Dean explained. “If you ask me, he probably went insane years ago”.

“Or was driven to insanity” Crowley pointed out.

“True enough. The thing you can do through bonds...” Bobby said. “Of course I would have kicked John’s ass if he ever tried anything like that, and I’d do the same if any of my boy’s witches did”.

Crowley was getting the distinct impression that he was being warned, but he couldn’t imagine why.

It wasn’t like he had time to think about it.

In the course of the night, he learned one thing: The Winchester coven was much bigger and more popular than he could have imagined. Witches and familiars kept popping in and out of the mansion, offering suggestions and help, and soon he had been introduced to Eileen, an Irish witch who was happy to meet someone originally from the UK, another unbound familiar called Rufus, Bela, who raised an eyebrow when Dean introduced them before transforming into a peacock, and Emma, a mouse familiar who seemed to look up to Dean as a father figure, among others.

“They can be a bit much to take in” Dean told him sometime past midnight, drawing him into a corner so they could talk, “Sorry that they’re so interested in you, but I’ve never brought a witch home before”.

His eyes were sparkling.

“And, how’s the verdict?”

“Don’t worry, they like you. And why shouldn’t they?”

 _Because I’m pretty much a bastard who fell in with your crowd by pure chance_ , _plus I’ll soon be alone again_ , he could have said. He didn’t.

“Three parts” he later surmised, “the ritual definitely has three parts. At least we know that now, as bad as the news is. God I have been an idiot”.

“Why do you think – ”

“They’re too obvious for just having started. The familiars hardly stray from each other’s side now during the coven meetings... and Lucifer getting them all pumped up for his world domination. I should have known. I was right in the middle of it and I didn’t see – ”

“Hey” Dean reached out and took his hand. “It wasn’t your fault. Lucifer’s the one doing the wrong thing is.

“Yes but here we are, two thirds of the way done to Armageddon – “

 “So basically we’re screwed” Bobby said, eying their joined hands.

Crowley told himself he wasn’t blushing as he pulled his away.  

“Not necessarily” Sarah objected. “Rituals are built on the understanding that all parts have to work out perfectly fine.”

“More than that. The last part has to be one big gesture. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that witches are huge drama queens” Crowley said.

“Present company pointedly not excluded”.

He looked at Dean. The familiar shrugged.

“Just telling the truth”.

“So it would have to take place on a special day, or a special occasion...” Sarah mumbled.

“Walpurgis Night” Sam said instantly.

Walpurgis Night was only three weeks away.

Yes, they were definitely screwed.

“Man, every time I come back here I realize how quiet it is” Dean said when they returned to Crowley’s.

“Mind if I crash for a bit? I’ve been up for thirty hours”.

“I think I’ll join you” Crowley said, realizing that—well –

Aside from the night where he’d been a Squirrel, they had never slept together before first... sleeping together.

It was surprisingly easy to drift off next to Dean.

Maybe that was why he was so disappointed to find him gone by the time he woke up in the late afternoon.

Dean was chatting with Gavin and Fiona in the kitchen.

“You should have woken me up”.

“No need to. Thought you could use the rest”.

Gavin grinned at him before growing serious.

“Fiona say they’re not only working constantly, they’re also pretty optimistic ”.

“Abbadon talked about being free very soon, and she sounded pretty sure of herself”.

Fiona shuddered.

“She seems to think we have a lot in common now that I know what a mistake I made. Dean is generally pitied, by the way”.

“Oh no, a pretty decent powerful witch with a house of his own and a knack for potions took me in as his familiar woe is me”.

Crowley could feel Gavin’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn his head.

“I could steal Crowley’s powers and try and ensure both Lucifer and Michael go up in flames, but that plan seems to have a few drawbacks”.

“I’d say” Fiona replied lightly. “Same thing if I tried with Gavin. I like him too much, I’m afraid. Oh, and before I forget, we went to Pam’s for a midnight snack. She was gushing about you two”.

Dean blushed.

What a captivating sight.

“So we know rituals always involve difficult to find ingredients” Dean said.

“Oh” Fiona replied, and her expression dropped.

They had definitely arrived at the reason for their visit; she must have waited for Crowley to get up, another reason why he shouldn’t have slept in. Usually he didn’t need more than a few hours anyway. He must have been more tired than he’d thought, or more relaxed.

Definitely more tired, he decided.

“They told me they had finally got scales of a dragon – another boast from Abaddon, I am afraid.”

“Dragon scales? How did they – “

“I thought dragons were extinct – “

“Most witches do, but there are a few still around. Forget about treasures and virgins, though. I once met one who hoarded empty coke cans.”

“You are actually in contact with them?”

“Sure, we’re all magical creatures” Dean said. “Earl, the coke can one – “

“When were you going to tell me that? And why do you know a dragon named Earl?”

“It didn’t come up in conversation before! And Earl can be called any name he likes. Plus the point is one of them actually let them have some of its scales?”

“You know dragons” Fiona sighed. “They’re greedy. I assume they bought him or her”.

“So basically we are screwed on Walpurgis Night, unless we can somehow disrupt the ritual”.

“It would seem so”.

Dean sighed.

“Damn it, I am quite fond of this world as it is”.

“We all are, Squirrel. If we only knew when and how... Do you think you can completely gain their trust in three weeks? Enough for them to want you to be there?”

Dean looked at Fiona.

“What are you saying? Can we smooch up enough?”

“You made Gavin and Crowley talk” she said. “I’m pretty sure you can do anything”.

Dean grinned.

“That’s the right way of thinking”.

“If Fiona and Dean are part of the group, they can easily do away with any wardings against witches” Gavin said. “We could join them any moment”.

“I suppose so...”

“Don’t sell yourself short. As long as I channel your magic, we should be good”.

It was true; his powers had grown considerably since Dean had moved in. Or perhaps it was more fitting to say that they had slowly returned to what they were before he grew old and tired.

Speaking of being tired... he cared far more about thee end of the world than he would have thought.

The Winchester coven had truly been a thing to behold, witches and familiars working and living together as equals.

Crowley almost wouldn’t have believed it was possible.

 _You could just change covens_ , Gavin had said.

It was tempting. For some reason, the members seemed to like him well enough, and maybe they would take him in. Even if Dean didn’t want him as his witch – 

Wait, what?

He didn’t want Dean as his familiar. He _didn’t_. They were just out to save the world.

He was too old and set in his ways to just switch covens. Sure, they had worked well together, but that had only been for a short time. But actually spending most of his time in the mansion, surrounded by others?

He shouldn’t even be contemplating it. He had enough to focus on, and he would most likely be dead in a few weeks. Crowley had no illusions about their chances. The Winchester coven was strong, but so were Lucifer and his supporters.

He would have to speak with Gavin later. In case things went wrong, and there was a strong probability that they would, he wanted him and Fiona to get away. They were still young (comparatively speaking), they could have a life far away from Lucifer.

If he didn’t really take over the world, but Crowley didn’t even want to think about it.

“What’s gotten into your head? You’re making that face again when you’re thinking of something unpleasant”.

“How would you even know what that looks like?” he asked Dean.

“I’ve seen you speak about your mother”.

Gavin laughed. “He wins that round, Father”.

Dean celebrated his victory by changing form and hopping unto his shoulder once more.

“You know that’s no proper way to end discussions, right?”

Dean nibbled his ear.

“Hey!”

This time, both Gavin and Fiona laughed.

Crowley found himself hoping that, if he survived, he could at least have this after Dean left.


	9. Chapter 9

During the next three weeks, they worked hard, surveying Lucifer as best as they could using spells. Sometimes Dean was so tired he didn’t even say anything, just turned into a squirrel and crawled into Crowley’s pocket to sleep it off. He wasn’t so exhausted that their... extracurricular activities came to an end, but they didn’t speak of it.

If any of the others noticed, they didn’t mention it either; and there were a lot of people around them. 

His house had become the Winchesters’ coven base, visitors appearing almost very hour with some new theory or strategy; Crowley had gone so far as to put up special protection in case his mother decided to drop in spontaneously, but she mostly seemed preoccupied with Lucifer, these days.

Crowley had no idea what he had promised to Rowena. Maybe that they would lead the coven together.

He’d never known her to be that naive, but Lucifer was clever, and God knows what he could do to a witch’s mind if he spend enough time with her, especially if he was using magic enhancers.

He only saw his mother during the coven meetings, and when they talked, she mostly gloated over Abaddon’s “new obedience”.

Despite the familiar working with Lucifer, Crowley couldn’t really say which of them he despised more.

“I think Abaddon’s at Lucifer’s mansion again” Pamela told them one evening not long away from Walpurgis Night, scrying on the Winchesters’ kitchen table.

She’d shown up a week ago, claiming she could help. Crowley hadn’t even been surprised. Some familiars, due to their heritage, had powers of their own; and Pamela must have had a powerful psychic in her family at one point.

“She must be his favourite” Dean said. “He probably means to take her after Michael burns up”.

“If he even needs a familiar after that. Lucifer has never stricken me as a team player if it’s not necessary”.

“Neither did you, darling, and here you are”.

“I think we can qualify the end of the world as a situation that makes team work necessary”.

“Yes” she drawled, “because saving everyone is your only motivation here”.

He chose not to reply, since Dean was once more sleeping off an exhausting magic session in his suit.

“You know a lot of problems can be avoided by talking to someone else, right?” she continued.

“I don’t see how talking would help”.

“Of course not. It took, what? A year before you acknowledged my existence? And then only because your mother forced you to take her out for dinner?”

“For the record, if I had known what I was missing, I would have come by earlier”.

“Still the charmer, I see.”

“Oh, he’s developing charm?”

“Dean” Crowley turned to the man who’d been fast asleep in his pocket a moment ago, “are you feeling better?”

He ignored Pamela’s mocking gasp. They needed all hands on deck, he wouldn’t allow Dean to exhaust himself.

“Good as new. Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt your flirting”.

With that, Dean left the kitchen.

Crowley frowned. He’d sounded decidedly unhappy.

“Bobby is right. You’re idjits”.

While he was wondering just how often the others gossiped about them, Dean returned with Sam in tow.

“Me and Sarah have been thinking” Sam announced, “and we should have a plan B. We’re trying to keep them from completing the ritual at all. That’s all fine and good, but we could always be too late, and what are we going to do then? There must be spells that can undo rituals, at least while they’re still in progress of being completed or have just been finished.”

Thank God both Winchesters were excellent at research. They’d grown up in an utterly magical environment, extreme even by familiar standards since both their mother and Bobby were highly respected within the community, meaning they’d been on more coven meetings than most even as children.

Crowley was thankful they were on the same side. God knows what would have happened if he had had to go against the Winchesters.

“An interesting angle, but I still hope we won’t need that”.

The more important and difficult the spell, the greater the power it took, or the rarer the ingredients. It wasn’t always true, but still a rule to live by.

“Trust me pumpkin, we all do” Dean said casually.

“Please don’t call me pumpkin.”

“Do you have any hopes they’ll eventually grow up?” Sam asked Pamela.

“Yes” was the cheerful reply. “Either that or they manage to destroy the world, but whether by accident or design I have no idea. Quite an explosive mixture, these two”.

“Would you cut it out?” Dean asked, exasperated. Then, as he was wont to do, he transformed before anyone else could chime in, and hopped unto Crowley’s shoulder.

“How are Gavin and Fiona doing?” Sam asked.

“Gavin contacted me about half an hour ago. Fiona has them utterly convinced she’s on their side, but she’s having a surprisingly difficult time doing the same when it comes to Dean”.

Sam nodded, not surprised.

“Problem is everyone can tell you’re well matched. Your magic’s been growing more potent every day. And Dean’s far more relaxed than I have seen him in years”.

Dean squeaked in protest.

“Come off it, you know it’s true. He used to get nervous sometimes when he hadn’t channelled magic in a while”.

“You make me sound like I got hormonal problems” Dean complained hanging back to human to chew his brother out.

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just...” Sam trailed off and raised an eyebrow.

“No chance, Samuel. I’ve tried, believe me. We’ll have to lock them in the closet”.

“What, just after they got out? And please don’t call me Samuel.”

Dean snickered.

Sam shoved him.

“Hey, at least I wasn’t named after our grandmother”.

“You were what?” Crowley asked.

“Actually” he corrected himself when Dean opened his mouth, “never mind. It’s not like that is our biggest problem at the moment”.

Dean looked oddly grateful.

“Helpless” Sam muttered, leaving the kitchen. “Utterly helpless”.

“When you two later remember this moment” Pamela informed them, “I want you to know I agree with him”.

 

 

 

Finally, they had an evening to themselves again. They had come as far as their research could go for today, and Crowley sighed as he closed his front door.

Dean hopped of his shoulder.

“You should go out more. Interacting with people does you good”.

“I’ll believe that when I have conclusive evidence. By the way, what happens to your clothes when you change?”

“Basically, it’s part of our DNA that we take them with us... they’re sort of stored in a plane between the worlds while we’re in animal form” Dean answered. “Why do you ask?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. There’s only one reason you think about clothes. You’ve always been such a horny witch?”

“Only when I have reason to be” he said, taking Dean’s hand and drawing him closer.

The familiar smirked.

“If only I could say the same –“

“I’ll show you – “

And he did. Repeatedly.

During the next few days, the witches and familiars worked even harder than before, and Crowley was becoming surprisingly comfortable working in a team. He’d only ever bothered to belong to a coven because he would never heard the end of it from his mother if he didn’t, but he was seeing and experiencing for the first time that it could actually be pleasant to intertwine one’s life with others.

Like Dean.

As Dean’s temporary witch, he seemed to have gained a position of respect and trust immediately. The consent was apparently that a Winchester couldn’t chose badly when it came to bonding, although how they could all believe that was where they were heading when they had repeatedly stated otherwise was a small mystery to Crowley.

Not that it mattered.

He now not only attended his own coven meetings, but those of the Winchester’s as well.

It had almost shocked him to realize that they could actually be fun despite the threat hanging over all of them.

It wasn’t just business they went through.

No, the Winchesters made sure all members were well taken care of and looked after, sometimes lone familiars and witches got to share each other’s powers, now and then someone played a well-meant prank on someone else just to make everyone laugh.

And then that someone just happened to be him.

“Charlie” he sighed during a meeting, interrupting Bobby who was talking about the importance of hiding spells in a world where mortals were more curious than ever, “Every time I find a nut in my pockets and take it out, two more appear. This is an Armani suit”.

Dean, of course, had nothing against the change, happily munching on several he’d already tugged out of his pocket.

Charlie grinned.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it”.

At least Dean got a good meal out of it.

Watching him, Crowley realized he hadn’t even sensed the spell being placed on him until he noticed the nuts. Before he’d met Dean, he would have assumed that this had to do with his magic depleting, but in truth, he felt better than he had in decades; and so he could only come to the conclusion that his magic had somehow realized Charlie posed no threat.

When he talked about it with the familiar, he agreed.

“Magic can be pretty fickle at times, don’t get me wrong. But mostly it’s instinct, pure instinct. Charlie wasn’t doing anything to harm you, and you subconsciously knew that, so you let it happen. Also perhaps you wanted to feed me”.

He wriggled his eyebrows.

“I actually think you eat more than enough.”

Dean was indeed eating a lot, claiming he needed the energy for channelling magic, but Crowley had the suspicion that he just liked stuffing his face, may it be as a human or a Squirrel.

“Anything from Gavin and Fiona today?” Dean asked just as an envelope appeared out of thin air and fluttered down on the table, his son’s handwriting on it.

“It’s so sweet he uses the old ways”.

“You know Gavin, he thinks I am hopelessly old-fashioned and unable to cope with newer inventions”.

“Nothing wrong with vinyl”.

“So I keep telling him” Crowley said, opening the envelope Gavin had sealed with a few drops of his blood, creating a powerful magical seal that could only be broken by the one the message was addressed to.

“They’ll let you in” he said. “Fiona thinks you should definitely play along during the next coven meeting, and you’ll learn time and place of the last ritual”.

“Way to go” Dean grinned.

Crowley burned the message with a wave of his hand and wondered why an uncomfortable weight was settling in his chest. This was what they had wanted.

Surely he wasn’t worried that much about Dean. The familiar could look after himself, he’d proven that time and time again.

“Wonder what she told them to smear your reputation” Dean said.

“She wouldn’t have had to do much”.

“I still don’t get that. Pam loves you, if any of the others had ever bothered to get to know you properly...”

“You overestimate my virtues. I’m not sure I have any”.

“Well” Dean grinned.

“A few”.

Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Hey” Dean nudged him.

“Seriously, you might have become a lazy recluse over the years, but once one drags you in front of several crazy witches and familiars, you’re pretty damn alright”.

And this, he reflected, might have been the highest praise he’d ever gotten.

A few days later, he was thankful he was alone when he found what Sam and Sarah had been looking for.

The spell was indeed everything they needed if push came to shove. The spell would undo the ritual even as it was being completed.

Crowley had just failed to mention one small detail, for the reason that Dean would object, would say it was too much of a sacrifice – or perhaps insist that he would be the one to make it.

And Crowley couldn’t allow that.

At least it was simple.

The last ingredient for the spell was something so easily taken.

_A life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the finale flashbacks I just put you through.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean and Fiona worked hard to make it seem like they thoroughly resented their witches on the days leading up to Walpurgis Night.

Crowley, meanwhile, was quietly gathering everything he needed for the spell in case things went awry, and he had every reason to think that they would.

Soon, he would be dead, one way or another.

And, seeing as he would soon leave this world, he was done lying to himself.

If he survived – he didn’t expect to, but you never knew – he didn’t just want Dean as a distant friend. He wanted to bond with him, for Dean to be his familiar in every sense.

Naturally, he didn’t tell him. He didn’t want Dean to take him out of pity only to have to experience their bond severing in little more than a week’s time.

Crowley was certain he was playing his part – that nothing had changed and he wasn’t preparing to leave this plane for good – but Dean still noticed.

“You alright?” he asked him exactly a week before the end during dinner.

He nodded.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

Dean looked down on his plate.

“I don’t know, you just seem... down at times. And you’ve been more affectionate with Gavin and Fiona. He actually asked me if you were ill. You’re not, are you? I can’t feel a thing”.

Why should he have been able to feel anything in the first place? True, the pseudo bond had returned again and again, every time stronger than ever; but Crowley didn’t think it should enable him to get an accurate reading on his state of health.

“I am fine” he assured him. “Me and my son haven’t really talked for more than a century, so it’s natural our relationship should change once we do”.

In fact he had been eager to see his son as often as he could once he realized his days were numbered. He had believed himself indifferent, when he’d only been tired; careless, when he had simply been bored; and uninterested when he had only been waiting for something to happen.

And something had and Dean had entered his life and just when he was eager to see where everything was going he had to kill himself to ensure the world would continue as it was. #

He would have complained about how unfair it all was, but then, he had never given anyone much reason to think he was a valuable member of society. Just ask his mother.

“If you’re sure...” Dean began, clearly sceptical.

“Of course I am, Squirrel. Have you met me?”

“Yes I have which is another reason why I assume you’re not fine but lying to me for some reason. You realize I’m your familiar, right? You can’t just pretend with me”.

“We’re not bonded” he reminded him once more, “and I’ve always been an excellent liar”.

“Yeah, sure” Dean huffed. “Sorry to tell you darling, but you’re way too easy to read”.

That was because Dean, and Dean only, had a way of getting under his skin incredibly easy.

At least that would soon be over.

The thought didn’t comfort him.

He even found himself being nicer to his mother during coven meetings. In a way, she had been taken in by Lucifer. This wasn’t her fault.

If only she had treated her familiar a little bit better over the centuries.

He was growing closer to the Winchester coven, too. Pamela was by now a full-fledged member, and sometimes he shot him looks that made him think she suspected what was going on. Charlie had eagerly introduced to any witch or familiar they came across, and Sarah Sam acted as if he was his brother’s witch with everything that entailed.

If there was any sort of afterlife, he was going to miss this, he was sure. Even Bobby wasn’t so grumpy when you got to know him better.

“We have to let the young folk enjoy themselves, right?” Bobby asked him one night as they were watching Sam and Dean play in the garden of the mansion in their animal forms. “That’s what youth is for”.

He nodded.

“Not that anyone would believe you about your age, these days” he continued, “You’re looking younger every day”.

Crowley snorted.

“In case you are showing interest...”

“Are you kidding me? I would never touch anything Dean doesn’t want me to. That boy can get jealous”.

Crowley really hoped he wasn’t blushing, but he wasn’t counting on it.

“Seriously, this has done both of you good. Dean’s always been a leader, but you really make him focus on what’s important. Not that I thought him deficient before. I’m just glad he found himself a good witch”.

“You should tell that to my coven, they’d probably laugh in your face”.

“Ever considered that your coven doesn’t have the best judgement?”

He honestly had not.

Bobby grabbed his shoulder.

“Seriously, we’re happy to have you. A powerful witch is always a plus, and you and Dean together will be practically unstoppable”.

He was beginning to wonder what Dean had told Bobby about their deal.

On the night of April 30, the Winchesters’ coven held a huge meeting, or rather, a feast.

“Seriously? We’re on the eve of destruction, and you want to throw a party?” he asked Dean as the familiar was fussing over Crowley’s tie for no particular reason.

“Yes. We’ve always believed that, when the lights go out, you should at least have celebrated one more time before the end” he replied, “And no, this tie isn’t going to cut it”.

“There’s nothing wrong with – “

Dean had already grabbed another one, red like blood, and was tying it for him.

“There. Much better. Makes you look all sexy and brooding”.

“I never brood”.

“Of course you don’t. Now let’s go, time to bang a few gongs before the lights go out”.

Due to the circumstances, alcohol was banned, but Crowley still had a good time. There was something about being just accepted as part of a group, no questions asked, and Dean was in an exceptional good mood, even for him.-

“Sometimes you have to let them do their thing” Sarah told him when Sam and Dean were once more conversing about something as a moose and squirrel.

“I hardly think we could change a thing about them even if we wanted to” he said.

She smiled.

“I’m glad Dean found you.”

He was silent, for the simple reason that he had nothing to say.

“You’re being weird again” Dean told him when they arrived home, “What’s going on?”

“I was just having a hard time not trying to drag you off to bed” he said smoothly.

Dean wriggled his eyebrows.

“That can be easily arranged”.

And, watching him sleep that night, Crowley took some unsuspected comfort from the thought that if he succeeded at least Dean would still be around and make the world a better place.

Dean left early on Walpurgis Night with a wink and a kiss.

Gavin showed up soon afterwards.

“Fiona?”

“On her way.”

After a pause he added, “I don’t like this”.

“I’m not very fond of the plan myself, but there’s little we could do”.

Gavin nodded.

“I’m sure they’ll call us soon”.

Crowley had given Dean a potion that would ensure he could communicate with him despite them not being bonded, although the familiar had rolled his eyes at him; and Gavin and Fiona’s bond had proven so strong they didn’t need any help.

This was it then. The last night of his life.

“Father” Gavin began almost as if he was reading his thoughts, “If this doesn’t – if we – “

“It’s quite alright. I agree” he replied.

“I’m just glad we moved past our differences” his son admitted and Crowley nodded. He was as well.

“At least going out saving the world isn’t too shabby” he said, even though he was determined to do everything that Gavin and Fiona stayed alive and well. They were smart. They could get away and hide from Lucifer. Dean would help them, he was certain.

They might even join his coven.

Suddenly, for the first time, he heard Dean’s voice in his head as clearly as if the were fully bonded, courtesy of his potion.

_Showtime, Crowley. They’re working on it. Come quickly._

“Gavin – “

“She called me”.

They honed in on their familiars’ location and transported.

Despite knowing how well connected the Winchesters were, Crowley was still surprised to see so many witches and familiars around, eager to help.

They rushed into the building, Abaddon crying in fury when she spied them.

Many stories would be told of this day, of the great battle between the Winchester and the Pellegrino coven. The familiars were relent- and remorseless, eager to get their revenge after decades of servitude; and the witches and familiars on the Winchesters’ side would rather save than harm them, trying to use mostly incapacitating spells.

Needless to say, the other side had no such qualms and Abaddon would almost have cut down Crowley using a hex bag if Pamela hadn’t interfered. He called out thanks but wasn’t sure she’d heard it.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Bobby transform into his owl form to wreak havoc from above. Sam was stamping through their enemies rank, using his antler to pave the way, Sarah walking behind him casting spells.

And Dean, of course, was at Crowley’s side, helping him fight his way through. Even with all the magic they’d shared over the last month, he didn’t think their powers had ever been more closely intertwined.

 Lucifer though simply blasted through the familiars surrounding him, grabbing Michael and a bowl Crowley was sure included every ingredient necessary to complete the ritual, and fled into another part of the building, shutting the door behind him.

Crowley cursed when he realized that there was a powerful block on that lock as well.

“I need reinforcement here!”

Dean was at his side in an instant, followed by Sam, Sarah, Gavin and Fiona.

“Fuck it. Let’s blast that thing” the familiar decided, laying a hand on Crowley’s shoulder.

Power he had never known flowed through him as they performed the spell, all together, trying to break –

As the door burst apart, the earth shook.

Lucifer had completed the spell.

He swallowed as he thought of his mother. She might just be strong enough to survive, but many of the other witches of the coven weren’t. He’d never grown to like any of them very much, but he’d spend over a hundred years with them, and as Dean had taught him, he wasn’t nearly as indifferent to life and others as he’d thought.

Crowley knew what he had to do.

He turned around to face the others. He would go in alone. And, he admitted to himself, he wanted to spare his friends the sight of him dying at his own hands.

Even though a small part of him hoped that he would be mourned.

It was now or never.

He pulled the hex bag out of his pocket (the pocket Dean had favoured the most while napping, he remembered, the memory sudden and unwelcome, reminding him of what he was going to leave begin) and burned it. The spell was actually pretty easy, apart from the life he had to take.

“There’s a plan B. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back” he lied, stepping away before anyone could object.

“Hey” Dean grabbed his arm to hold him back. He looked into his eyes.

Crowley registered with surprise that Dean genuinely _cared_ for him.

“I’ve got a hunch what you’re trying to do. Wasn’t difficult to guess, with how shifty you’ve been acting. Just... try to survive, alright? I’ve got plans for you”.

He could only nod in reply.

His goodbye kiss was hard and painful.

“Good luck Father”.

Gavin sounded subdued, proving that he too knew what would happen.

Crowley stepped away from the only person he’d ever wanted for more than a night to meet his doom. 


	11. Chapter 11

Somehow, he almost felt euphoric as he walked to his death. Maybe because he was doing the right thing for the first time in his life, perhaps because at the end, he had learned what it meant to love someone.

Lucifer was standing in the middle of the empty room, and Crowley felt that he had been waiting for him.

The burned-out hunk of Michael lay in a corner.

“He was loyal to the end” he said quietly.

Lucifer snorted.

“Yes, but I have never made the mistake of growing too close to my pet, unlike you”.

“Dean was never my pet. He’s my friend”.

“Somewhat more, I should say”.

He walked up to his Supreme, resigned to his fate.

“I’ve watched you grow more and more powerful” he said. “I wouldn’t even have interfered, if you hadn’t tried to take over the world”.

Lucifer shrugged.

“Everyone needs a hobby”.

“But here’s the thing” Crowley continued, “Even when I lose, I win. You never stood a chance”.

He conjured a blade. It appeared in his hand.

The Supreme laughed.

“Really? I can snap my fingers and you would explode”.

Crowley raised the knife.

And then he remembered Dean telling him to survive.

And, even though it was useless, even thought it would lead to nothing, he tried a spell to blast through Lucifer’s protections.

All the barriers between them shattered as Lucifer staggered back, looking as shocked as Crowley felt.

Twenty-two witches. The Supreme had the powers of twenty-two witches at his command. What was going on?

And then he heard it again, as loud and clear as when Dean had used the hex bag.

_Fuck him up, darling._

**Dean? But – what –**

_Oh dear, I’ve got my work cut out for me. Why did I have to pick the clueless witch?_

And he understood.

That was why he felt so good; it weren’t his emotions, but –

They’d bonded.

They had bonded. Dean had chosen him as his witch.

And together, they were more powerful than Lucifer would ever be.

He smiled as he walked up to him.

“How the tables have turned.”

“No! Wait! I have so much power, I can give you – “

“Trust me, I don’t need anything. I have Dean.”

_Damn right you have._

He chuckled and raised the blade, using his magic to counteract Lucifer’s effortlessly.

“Bye, Supreme”.

“No – “

Crowley stabbed him in the chest. Lucifer cried out and bright light filled the room as all power left him.

As his sight cleared, Dean, once more a squirrel, hopped on his shoulder.

 _Hell yeah, that was_ hot _._

**You like watching me stabbing people? That opens up certain possibilities...**

Dean nibbled at his earlobe.

_Don’t you dare, I’m responsible for keeping you on the straight and narrow now”._

**About that... why are we bonded?**

Dean moved away. A moment later, the man stood in front of Crowley, not catching his eyes.

“I could feel your magic straining towards mine” he told the floor. “It only got worse over time. I just wasn’t sure if that was because your powers were depleting or if you... if you actually wanted...”

“Dean” he said, buoyed by the joy filtering through the bond between them, “You must be aware that I love you”.

Dean’s head snapped up.

“You could have told me!”

“I am telling you now!”

“Aw, isn’t the honeymoon phase the best part about being bonded?”

They turned around to find most members of the Winchesters’ coven, Sam grinning over his own quip.

Gavin surprised him by running up to him and hugging him tightly.

“I’m so glad you made it!”

“I’m rather happy about it myself” he said, returning the hug, Dean’s satisfaction at their reconciliation flowing freely between him and his familiar.

“Where are the others?” Dean asked.

“Guarding the familiars. Bobby’ll make sure no one can escape. We need to find and take care of their witches... If they have survived”.

Crowley nodded and looked at Dean.

**Want to try a spell, Squirrel?**

_Anything for you, sweetie._

As they held hands and he began to spell, Dean added, _I love you too, by the way. That’s why I allowed the bond to form. Wanted to give you a fighting chance._

As it turned out, he had given him far more; the spell took no time at all, and because he didn’t feel the least bit tired, with a blink he hand transported him, Dean and the others to the place where the witches were kept.

Dear God, there seemed to be no limit as to what they could do together.

“Fergus” his mother mumbled when she saw him. She’d held on to life stubbornly, and his relief caused Dean to move closer to comfort him.

She wasn’t the only survivor, but there were those who hadn’t made it, and they would be buried as their customs demanded. As to the others...

“What should we do with them?” Dean asked.

“Their powers will return, now that Lucifer’s dead” Sam said. “And I’d say there’s a lot of bond therapy coming, for those who ever want to talk to their familiars and are ready to hear their reasons, at least. And then...”

“I’d say they can join our coven, if they behave” Dean said, but he turned to Crowley instead of Sam.

**Our coven?**

He was still getting used to talking through their bond, but Dean just grinned.

“Hell yeah. There are two new Supremes in town!”

The witches and familiars cheered as he drew Crowley into a kiss.

He would have liked to think that it was just coincidence that suddenly, every light in the abandoned warehouse they had kept the witches in blew out, only he knew better.

Dean drew back looking smug.

“My witch is stronger than your witch” he sing-songed at Sam. “No offense, Sarah.”

“None taken. I wouldn’t want to be Supreme anyway.”

Supreme.

Crowely had never seen this coming.

But as Dean took his hand to triumphantly hold it up into the air, he could only look forward to their future.

**Some time later**

“Fergus, we have a ghoul problem in Minnesota”.

“It seems to me that Minnesota is the one to have the problem” he replied.

His mother rolled her eyes.

“We’ve been over this, as the most powerful Supreme...”

He tuned his mother out as he looked over the documents another coven had sent him. Being the Supreme wasn’t always fun, but their Bond made it worth it.

They – he and those of the coven who had decided to join them, Gavin and Fiona first among them – had moved to Kansas and merged with the Winchester coven. He and Dean were the accepted leaders, of course.

Rowena had recovered well, so well in fact that by now she was basking in the powers of her son and son-in-law, as she continued to refer to Dean. She was acting politer at least, well aware that she was weaker than ever without Abaddon.

The familiars who had conspired against their witches had been placed under confinement, most of the unrepentant.

Even if they should escape, Crowley wasn’t worried in the least. He and Dean could easily take them.

“Crowley – “

“Oh hello Miss Mouse” he greeted Emma, glad for the interruption.

“Dean said to meet you at home”.

While they had relocated back to Kansas, he and Dean had built (or rather, used their magic to build) a house next to the coven mansion, his familiar accepting his need for privacy. True, coven members still fluttered in and out of their home at all hours, but there were still moments when it was only him and Dena and the life they had made.

He frowned. With his mother and the work, he hadn’t noticed that their bond had grown strangely silent.

“Is –“

“He’s fine, don’t worry. He just wants to surprise you” she grinned.

Dean had, in fact, cooked lunch for them, a rather rare indulgence these days.

“Thank you” he sighed, “Mother was being difficult”.

 _I know how to take care of my witch,_ Dean said, opening the bond once again.

**Or you just wanted burgers and made enough for two.**

_I could easily put that away on my own, thank you._

“By the way, I heard about the ghoul thing. Benny’s handling it”.

He sighed with relief.

**You really do know how to take care of me.**

_Good thing too. We’ll be here a while._

It was true; the power that cackled between them would ensure their survival for centuries to come.

He smiled and drew Dean close.

No one needed to know if they took a bit longer for lunch than they strictly had to.

**Several years later**

The contentment and happiness his familiar was sending through their bond was all that kept Crowley from blasting Meg Masters to smithereens right here in his office. The witch had joined them a few months ago and since then had done nothing but annoy him.

“We cannot let the humans know. Remember the Malleus Maleficarum?”

She rolled her eyes.

“We just have to make deals – “

“Oh no. I am always ready to make deals with other magic users, but giving humans that power would be utterly wrong”.

“Supreme – “

He’d never been keen on someone using his title.

“Miss Masters, if you will excuse me, my familiar called to me – “

As he left he heard her mother “that brat” and was once more tempted to do away with her. But Dean wouldn’t like that.

After all, their baby son was very far from a brat.

He wasn’t theirs biologically, of course. The magic users of the world were very protective of their own, but some things slipped through the cracks, and half a year ago an orphan familiar had found his way into the human system.

Needless to say, they had noticed pretty soon because headlines of a frantic nurse in a hospital claiming a baby would change into a Squirrel and back again were hard to miss.

There had been no question who would take the child. Dean wasn’t just a squirrel familiar, he was also very good with children (as the fact that Emma by now had a room in their house suggested).

The first two months, they had pretended that they were looking for a suitable place for Robbie, but they had soon admitted to themselves that their makeshift family felt more complete with the child.

And so he’d ended up father to another child.

Gavin was a surprisingly enthusiastic older brother, and Fiona doted on Robbie so much Crowley was wondering if there would be an addition to the family soon and his youngest son and first grandchild would grow up together.

He transported into their nursery, forgetting all about Meg at the sight in front of him.

Robbie had changed form again and Dean as a squirrel was lying next to him in his crib.

Good for Crowley that he refused to use words such as “cute” or he might be tempted.

 **The colour really brings out your eyes,** Crowley thought at him, seeing that he and their son were wearing the small flannel shirts Pamela had sown them as a joke.

It was impressive just how well Dean could roll his eyes in this form.

He jumped unto his shoulder as always.

_Little man just had his bottle._

**I’m certain your conversation was far more entertaining than the one I had.**

Worry pulsed through the bond.

_Everything alright?_

**Yes, just Masters acting up.**

_Please, we could blast her off the face of the earth._

**I do not see the others agreeing to that plan.**

_I don’t know, she tried to flirt with Sam the other day and Sarah looked murderous._

**I wouldn’t put it past my sister-in-law,** he admitted.

Another surge of amusement.

_Not your sister-in-law._

**Soon enough, I hope.**

All he got in response was shock.

**Will you marry me?**

Dean jumped down on the floor and changed back, but didn’t say a thing.

“Dean?” he asked.

“Thank God Robbie’s asleep” he finally announced before taking his hand and dragging him to the bedroom.

Life was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Come on admit it. Witch!Crowley with Squirrel!familiar Dean. I just won the Drowley tag.


End file.
